“W” is for…

Writing on the Wall

kid_drawing_on_wall

After reading a blog post some time back asking how far back our love of writing went, I began thinking about when my love of words began, and discovered it was the writing on the wall.  Literally.

Much to my mother and father’s dismay, I began experimenting with writing on our living room walls when I was about four years old.  In crayon.  And despite getting into trouble, that was the beginning of freedom as I knew it. 🙂  (The second time words got me into serious trouble was in elementary school when a boy kept getting me out in four-square and an obscenity I didn’t realize I knew flew out of my mouth before I even knew what happened. Right in front of the playground aid.  I’m not sure who was more shocked, me or the aid. 🙂

I never wrote on the walls again, but I practiced my writing and my penmanship endlessly–on paper and chalkboards, taking great pride when my teachers would compliment my near-perfect handwriting.

As I grew into my teens, I spent endless hours and evenings in my room, walls decorated with all things writing, and immersed myself in writing in my journal and writing heartfelt poetry about the life of an adolescent.  When I wasn’t writing, I was reading.

As I grew into my late teens I still enjoyed writing but it fell to a lower rung on my list of priorities, until I got married.  It was then I decided to try my hand at a novel.  Although, truth be told, I hadn’t even thought about it that deeply to realize that’s what I wanted to write, I just knew I had a story I wanted to tell and sat down to write every evening until I realized I had finished the first draft of a novel.  A whopping 90,000 words before I even realized what I had done.  That manuscript, along with another completed first draft, still sit in a box in the bottom of a filing drawer.  Someday maybe they will see the light of day, but for now they’re tucked cozily in place.

For several years I took a break from writing to raise my boys, and have found my way back to it about two years ago. And what joy! It was like finding a long lost love after being separated for far too long.  And now that its been rediscovered, I can say I will never separate from that love again.  I found my way home.

When did you have that “Aha!” moment that you knew you wanted to be a writer?

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8 thoughts on ““W” is for…

  1. On my letter “Y”, I talk about Anneliese Pulvermann, my mom’s friend but it was her mother, Mrs. Pulvermann who gave me a little blue vinyl notebook when I was six. That’s when i started writing and kept journals all through high school but stopped when I married. Sometimes I wrote in the later years but it was not with the intensity I feel now. Great post that had me thinking back.

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  2. The first I can remember actually thinking about a writing career must have been around my JR College days. A couple of writing courses re-lit the fire I must have felt when I penciled my first short story when I was in fourth grade. It wasn’t until 2005 that I begin to hear stories, voices, thoughts, phrases that wouldn’t leave me alone. 2007 I started jotting them down. Now, each new day I awake and know, I am a writer and want to be for another day.

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  3. I was five years old and writing picture books. That’s when I knew I wanted to do this for the rest of my life. Before that, I wanted to be a cowgirl or a zookeeper.

    Great blog! Welcome back to writing. I hope it continues to make you happy.

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  4. What a great post! I love reading people’s fond memories like this. I, too, wrote a lot as a kid and as a teenager, and even after my daughter was born and I was in college. However, when my son came along, he was quite sickly and I had to start working full time, and well, life got in the way! I didn’t start again until last year, and I didn’t realize how much I had missed it. Thanks for sharing your beautiful story! 😀

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