Stepping back for a moment, I see writing as a combination of truth and the imagined – a mixture of hidden meanings and great discoveries. Writing creates an outlet for one’s passions and one’s angst. Writing, quite simply, is a beautiful thing.
Growing up, my dad always read to us kids before bed. He had us clinging to the bed sheets through the Tolkien trilogy, drifting off on swashbuckling adventures with C.S. Lewis, and painting imaginary planets with Madeline L’Engle. My dad gifted me with a love for stories – a love for writing.
Once, when I was an impressionable teenager, I had a teacher fail me on a paper which I had submitted for my science class. She said I had plagiarized it. She said that the writing was better than what I was capable of – that I was not able to write so well. She not only insulted and infuriated me, but she created a small cavern of doubt inside of me. And though my dad stood up for me like a bear protecting its cub, the damage had been done. I took my confidence and passion for writing, and I retreated into my cavern of doubt.
Today, with some prompting from a dear friend, I decided to embark upon Jeff Goins’ 15 day writing challenge. Day one is about declaring that you are a writer.
Helen Keller once said “never bend your head. Always hold it high. Look the world straight in the face.”
So, as I sit here, I am imagining a small super-hero-type girl standing on top of a plastic playground slide and looking the world straight in the face. But wait, her lips are moving. What’s that? Oh right. She’s saying: “I am a writer.”
In case you missed it, I just declared myself a writer.