"Nothing that’s worthwhile is ever easy. Remember that."
—
Nicholas Sparks (
Message in a Bottle)
When I was a little girl, I spent most of my free time writing. I wrote poetry, short stories, songs, and letters. Anytime I felt like I needed to put my feelings into words, all I needed was a pencil and piece of paper. I even entered a poetry contest once, and was published in a book. At a very young age I decided that someday i wanted to be a writer.
There were days that I would stay in my room, and only emerge when my mother called me out for dinner. "What have you been doing there all day?" She would ask.
"Nothin'," I'd reply. "Just writin'."
"What about?" She'd ask.
"Nothin'." I'd smile.
The truth was, I was filling notebooks full of anything and everything. Writing and rewriting, thinking and rethinking, and then rewriting again. Scribbling different thoughts down, and then crossing them out and tossing them in the trash. Crying. Laughing. Developing characters, and then living out there adventures in my mind. In my room, on paper, I could be whomever, go wherever, do whatever. I was free.
Like most ambitions, mine took a backseat to other things in my life. School. The prospect of going to college. Getting married. Having children. Work. Being a mother. This list goes on and on and on.......
I'd all but forgotten my long lost hobby, until one day I stumbled upon a story that my eighth grade self had written, in the back of my closet. It was exactly as I had left it, a three subject notebook filled front to back. That day, sitting in the floor of my closet, I rediscovered a part of me that I had long since forgotten.
At that point I realized, this was something I still wanted to do. My life's ambition was not putting screws and nosepads on glasses. That was okay for a job, but I wanted to do something much more. Ofcourse, now, there are other things to think of. I haven't taken an english class since my first year of college, and I'm sure even then my writing skills were less than stellar. I also have no idea where to begin to write an actual novel, because I'm pretty sure I would spend more time trying to get my thoughts straight than actually writing. So, I began to write these little notes on facebook. Then finally, I stole the blog idea from a friend. I mean, who is actually gonna read a blog about a part time optician, part time mom, full time wife? Well, not many, but, I have found that I enjoy it very much. For the first time in a while, I actually feel like myself again.
Maybe somday, I will learn how to write a novel. Maybe I'll take a creative writing class at Roane State, and someday I will give my characters life. Someday, maybe my words will jump off of a page into someones imagination just like Nicholous Sparks' characters do for me. Maybe someday, my words will reach thousands. Today, however, I will just have to settle for my blog followers and facebook friends.