I can't remember the first time I was really inspired to write. I remember in grade school that my best friend, Jessica, and I would make up stories and I would usually try to illustrate what she so giftedly wrote. We were going to grow up and be a writing/illustrating team, marry blonde handsome ski-instructor brothers, and live in log cabins that overlooked the Rocky Mountains in Colorado. This plan seemed ideal and totally plausible...until I hit fourth grade and realized that my illustration skills had already hit their peak and the likelihood of this collaboration started to lose its footing.
Then, in high school, I had a promising time passing an "English Comp I" class. I enjoyed the instructor and it was the first time I may have felt creative and good at something all at the same time. Still, my interest remained in the dramatics, and I set my sights on something "higher"...acting. (Okay, you can stop laughing now.)
Fast-forward to college. I came out to California at the ripe age of 17, jumping into student films wholeheartedly with both feet. While my intention grew toward acting, I couldn't help but allow my attention to be drawn towards writing. I had a couple very encouraging and influential professors who very candidly took me aside and essentially said "If you want a family someday, you should write." Acting wasn't going to allow me the lifestyle I truly desired. Writing, however, might. As a film student, at the time, this meant one thing: screenplays. And, so, I wrote screenplays. There is a little something you may or may not know about me...I've written about 7 screenplays in my life. Whew. Some interesting, some terrible, all of which are gathering dust and helping hold up books on a shelf in my dining room. Still, they have all helped get me here...just like each and every post I type. Practice, practice, practice.
Now, I'm writing the most regularly I've written since being in school. And it feels great. I am finding a niche. I am feeling out my audience (wink!). I am working hard to just keep the words coming and praying often about what you all might want to hear or read about next.
Writing feels like a workout to me. I have to do it to keep wanting to do it. I might drag myself to it beforehand, but then feel so refreshed and back in balance after it is over. I am my biggest critic and almost always feel insecure until I hit "publish" and just let it go. Then, when I'm free of it, I just feel better all around.
Writing is work. It is mentally taxing to search for the right words or analogies or phrases. It feels uncomfortable and familiar at the same time, like catching up with an old friend you haven't seen in person for years. I love it, I hate it, I need it. It's a strange gift that only God can motivate, and I'm thankful for that. I am thankful for people who ask me "Are you writing?" as if to nudge me to keep it up, even through the thick of it...that is, the years of muck that you have to write and have people read before you start to get a knack for it.
I hope I'm starting to get a knack for it. I hope you stick with me on this whole "writing a blog" journey until we are both sick of each other and our kids are grown and the internet is the most uncool thing you can pass time doing, yet you still click on "pardymama" just to see how this old kook is doing these days. I hope we weave a rich history that becomes an integration of exchanges - one post and one comment at a time.
Thanks, folks, for reading this silly little blog that has taken over the creative/vulnerable/needy part of my brain. Some days I will spew some blessings of genius that the Lord has put in my heart...and other days I will reflect the bottomless pit of hap-hazardous mayhem that is my life as a mother and wife. For the first time, maybe ever, I'm starting to feel like an actual "writer"...so, thanks for letting me have this little moment to self-indulge and offer up a post of gratitude just for you.
The pen...mightier than the sword and a lot less awkward than a side-hug. You can quote me on that. ;)