Pathways

I did something this week that I have NEVER done in my life-EVER...I allowed someone to read something that I had written. Now, right now you will think that THIS is what I'm talking about, but it's not. I think of this as an exercise in self-promotion, like being Kate Gosslin, but cuter and nicer and you don't have to see me.

Hummm, how do I explain....

SO, my Senior year of high school I took Oral Communications from Sharon Ladner (my favorite teacher of ALL time, btw!) and she had us make a list of 20 things we wanted to go in our lives. While I can't remember all of them, I DO remember that one of the biggies for me was to write a novel; however, I was careful to strategically cover my paper so no one would see THAT one. "Go to Paris" is common and woudln't commented on, but writing a novel makes people ask quesitons and pay attention. And that was the LAST thing I wanted anyone to do in high school. Yep, that's my dirty little secret; I'm a closet writer.

I wrote my first story when I was around 7 or 8, I guess. It was about an alien and I made up my own "alien language" for it. I was very proud of it, but I'm pretty sure I never showed it to anyone, let alone told anyone about it. It was just for me.

I continued writing little things here and there, but I discovered that the books I had were nothing lke the stuff I wrote so my stuff must not be very good. So, I didn't write as much, but the "want to" was still there, just scared to come out. That's when the "itchings" started.

My Pop refers to them as "buzzings" but to me, it actually feels like I have an itch inside my brain. Depending on the strength of the itch, it could be a sentence, a piece of dialogue, or an entire story. A little itch can be ignored, but eventually whatever the itch is MUST come out of my brain if I am to concentrate on anything. At 24 a giant itch caused me to sit in a robe and my hair in a towel for 3 hours while I wrote an entire short story. Yes, I had just gotten out of the shower and I had ignored the itch for two days. I was so compelled to sit and write I didn't even stop and put on clothes. I just sat down and began writing. it was so freeing and cathartic that I was literally crying and laughing and shaking with fear and excitment while I was writing. It was amazing!!! And that's when I KNEW beyond a shadow of a doubt that I wanted to be a writer. I might have even sent it off to be published somewhere had Katrina not stolen it. Oh well. I guess that one was just for me too.

So, after that I stopped ignoring my itches and writing them down whenever and where I got them. You would not believe the random pieces of paper and napkins I have stuff written on-most nothing but ideas or notes of things I thought were interesting or mihg tbe useful later. Call me a pack rat, but I still have almost all of them.

Now, this all leads me to my recent endevor. When I began running last week, I discovered my iPod was M.I.A., my Mom's Ipod was dead, and my dad's radio thingy needed batteries...ahh, the best laid plans. Anyway, I went with just myself and the sounds of nature and was struck with an instant ITCH. I began composing a story in my head before I made a full rotation around the park. I came home and immediatly began writing. Every time I've run without an iPod I've written more of the story; I'm afraid the Ipod killed my imagination by giving me something to distract me from myself.

Anyway, I digress, yet again, I actually sent everything I had typed to a friend of mine (and fellow blogger cererallunchbox, Thankx Jess) for a bit of feedback. I think I checked my email 8 times the day I sent it, desperatly awaiting something-verdict, judgement, something, I don't know. However, today I got my something and it was a positive something. I feel good about myself. I feel optimistic about being able to actually finish it. I think I'll give periodic updates about my progress, because I've chosen my path and I want you guys to go with me.