I am a writer. I have always been a writer. I love stories. Hearing them, telling them, making them up…I love stories.
Mostly I like real-life events. I was pretty good at Creative Writing in Jr High and high school, as long as someone else came up with the topic. Even then, it was hard to totally make up a story, without drawing on some kind of personal experience.
My grandma used to tell me stories about her life as she taught me to crochet. Stories of reading by coal-oil lamp, and of never locking the doors; of letting a passing stranger stay at their home because there wasn’t another farm for miles, and he and his horse were tired. Of the time one of those men tried to take advantage of her mother and my great-grandmother…well…made sure he could never do that again. To anyone.
These are the stories I love. True stories of all of life’s ups and downs and ultimate survival. Stories where the human spirit rises and ultimately finds joy. For Real. Stories that validate the difficulties we all face in life, in one form or another, from those who don’t let those experiences define or defeat them.
I’m a second-guesser by nature. Never quite as sure of a thing as others seem to be, but determined to learn to be. Attracted to confidence in others, but convinced that when I speak confidently about something, it comes across as arrogance. Or stubbornness. Or that I “think you know everything, don’t you?”
Maybe that’s why I write. Although the reader can hear whatever expression they choose, the reader can also hear whatever expression they choose.
I’d prefer to call someone on the phone for an important discussion than to text them, because words on paper have no inflection or emotion. On the other hand, if I’m worried that my inflection or tone may cause emotional harm, I prefer to write it out first. Deleting and rewording something on “paper” is much easier than recalling a hurtful phrase. Also, it gives me the opportunity to check my emotions. This, for me, is a good thing.
Since I can remember, I have written stories and poems (or, as I like to call them, song lyrics for my big break). My favorite was an assignment in Sociology class in my junior year of high school. The teacher wanted an essay (3 pages, two-sided) on some social situation or another that we were discussing. As soon as he said the topic, I heard a poem in my head. Never one to break the rules, I asked “Can I write a poem? It might not be 6 pages, but…” He said there would be “points for creativity”, but looked like he had his doubts. Ha! I wrote the poem. One page. And got an A.
I did the same thing in 5th grade about the British-American war. I rhymed something with “pantaloons”, which made the whole class laugh…and got an A.
My hope is to give my readers some encouragement. Maybe a little bit of insight, and hopefully a laugh.
And so, I write. What I think, what I feel, what I see, what I hear. And yes, what I know. Which, it turns out, is kind of a lot. 😉
I hope you enjoy.
All the love,
Becca
Becca's Babbles 