When I was in kindergarten, I wrote three books. Or, at least, that is what I would tell people when I was a kid.
I went to a pretty great kindergarten that, while this didn’t occur to me at the time, must have had A TON of resources. At the end of the school year, they took three stories that I had ‘written’ and ‘illustrated’ and they ‘published’ them. Meaning that they took a set of sentences I had written about a certain topic, along with some pictures I had drawn with crayon, and bound them into a hardcover book. My teacher helped me write dedications (to my parents, of course) and my ‘about the author’ blurbs. These books were some of my prized possessions when I was a child.
Holding those books in my hands is one of my earliest memories. It’s because of them that I don’t remember a time when I didn’t want to be a writer.
I wrote constantly while growing up and planned to go to college for English or Journalism or Creative Writing. My Dad, however, advised me to major in something more practical. It was good advice. I majored in Business and that degree has served me very well. I’ve got a successful career that allows me to use the hard skills I learned in college (go spreadsheets!) but still indulge in the creative thinking that I love.
But I miss writing (aka I miss writing something other than an email or business proposal).
And, my life is FULL of inspiration. My daughter, my family, and my perspective on this life we’re building often leaves me bubbling over with words. Add on top of that the amazingly rich (and, sometimes, ridiculously terrifying) experience that is motherhood and I’ve got stories to tell and lessons to share. Add on top of that all kinds of daily moments – something a co-worker says in a meeting, something I hear on the radio, an interaction between strangers that I witness in the elevator – and I can’t stop myself from writing.
But… I’m rusty at this. I’ve got no formal training. I’m finding my voice and figuring out what I want to say as I go along. I’m a private person, normally, and so I’m also trying to figure out how much I’m comfortable sharing.
This is all important for you to know if you are going to read what I write. Some posts are going to be no better written than my first kindergarten stories. But I’m OK with that. I’m learning that it’s all a part of the process.
So that’s why I write. Someday, I hope you’ll tell me why you read.