I don’t have a dramatic past or an interesting lifestyle. I don’t have wise insights into parenting or cooking or crafting. When asked what makes me special, what makes me “me,” I have to stop for a second and think.
“I like writing,” I’ll tell the inquisitor, shrugging my shoulders and trying to be as not-awkward as possible.
“What about?” they ask me. They’re just trying to make friendly conversation, but really they’ve hit upon the one question that rocks my world, the one question I dwell on day in and day out. What do I like to write about? I mean, it’s not much use to be able to write if you don’t have anything good to write about. If only I was some sort of world traveller or Ebola surviver, then I would have something of real importance to say, some grand earth-shattering story to share with the world.
And usually when I tell people I like to write they give me that look, the squinty-almost-telelpathic-I-know-what-you’re-thinking look. They assume I, like most girls my age, write crappy Twilight fanfiction and othe romanace stories that will take me nowhere in life. Well, surprise, surprise: I don’t do that. I actually write stories, creative and otherwise, some for the school newspaper. I want to spend my life writing. I want to wake up in the morning, drag myself over to the computer with a cup of coffee, and go on epic adventures without ever leaving my chair. This is not a hobby or something I’m just dabbling in. This is my passsion. This is my lifestyle. So don’t give me that look when I say I like to write.
I guess even though I don’t have anything of obvious interest to write about I still have a voice and opinions and thoughts worth sharing. I’ll never forget one wintry Christmas when my cousin handed me a journal with a bow on top and said. “Here. Your thoughts matter.” After I went home I sat with a pen and the journal open in front of me. That gift, I think, is what really got me started on this writing journey. That is when I started penning every idea, big or small, horrible or amazingly genius. (Though the amazingly genius ones are few and far between)
That journal is almost full now with random poems, lists of favorite words, brainstorms, and short stories. It is one of my most prized possesions. I take it with me everywhere.
So though I have nothing of real importance to say, I’m going to say it as eloquently and passionately as I can. Maybe through this blog adventure I’ll find my niche, what I like to write about. Maybe by the end of this I will have something important to say. Let the journey begin.