It has been over 10 years since my last post. This feels like writing a journal entry and just tossing it out into the universe. Will anyone read it? Probably not. I used to love writing. It was something that came easily to me and made me feel confident. Now I feel like a rusty old typewriter, trying to remember how to put words together in a meaningful way. Not to say that I haven't been writing in all this time. I've been getting an education, and that entails writing, to a degree. But writing something personal in a very public medium is different that writing a paper analyzing A Doll's House through a Marxist Theory of literary interpretation for your instructor's eyes only.
But writing is important to me. It makes me feel like I’m fulfilling my purpose, or one of my purposes. One of my goals in finally receiving my higher education was to improve in my writing, so that I could realize my dream of being a book editor and published author someday. I’ve always felt that I could be a good and efficient book editor because that’s about making corrections to someone else’s work. Being a writer though, that means creating my own worlds, and that’s a bit more complicated. It seems like the best writers have a tortured past, and I had a pretty happy childhood. This just means I’m going to have to dig a little deeper to find my voice, but it’s somewhere in there!
