So we all have this thing that we have brought from our childhood that makes us come alive. Whether it be a favorite toy and a simple smell that provokes nostalgia, I have loved writing.
When i first started in school I realized how much I enjoyed writing reports and i thrived when the mention of plagiarism was note. I was that cocky writer early that said why in the world would I use someone else’s words I have my won which are most likely better…..lol Yeah i said I was cocky but trust me have I learned since then
So i entered a competition in school I believe I was in about 4th or th grade IDK but it was a young authors contest and I decided to try I was young I don’t have fear of failure holding m e back…yet
Short of the long is I won that contest and had the book published within our library system. That was a big deal back in my time. I had to do this little circuit thing with the library and I quickly learned criticism…but I was just a kid….Guess what kiddos, not as much has changed! After that whole ordeal I didn’t want to write for a while out of fear. It wasn’t fear of failure it wa fear of criticism. My ego had been crushed, deservingly so, but none the less fear was born in a very apparent birth!
A few years later my mom talked me into entering a poetry contest where you could win a chance to have some of your woks displayed in some national book of poetry. Since I know they were taking lots of submission I didn’t worry about the fear of criticism. I mean what better way to hide your writing then in an emo based book that if someone tries to interpret the wrong way I could quickly defend my writings and even put a spin so you felt bad for negating MY emotions. So I entered I won a submission i should be happy. Well I was but now there was this gaping hole inside my heart that was once a controlled place now was driving on sheer hunger to need to get the words out!
Fast forward about 20 years and after many years of suppression on that desire, I find myself on this journey. So I took the advice and just did it. I made time each day deliberately to feed this passion. So far I am enjoying this ride. I am starting to come alive inside. I am starting to feel like me again.
So… why writing, the real question is Why Breathe?