Last month (June 2017) my mother would have been 82, she passed in February.
Here is the thing, life is short.
I have first drafts completed of more novels than I care to mention, and screenplays. They are all rough; nothing edited. At this point, I would NEVER actually show any of it to anyone.
Growing up in rural Kansas I did not know anyone that wrote for a living, or even just for fun. Writing? It wasn’t on my radar.
For many reasons, I eventually put things I wrote for my art students, and I found it sold. I still did not think of myself as a “Writer.” I told myself that nonfiction is “practical,” it is not like fiction, which seemed so self-indulgent.
I did not pay much attention in my English classes. Why would I need English? After all, I was going to paint!
(I at this moment I formally apologize to all my former English instructors.)
You probably know where this is going, huh?
I expect things to be a bit wobbly and uncertain for me in the coming months. Natalie Goldberg says to give yourself at least two years of practice writing. Take that time to find your voice and discover what matters to you. I am impatient and hesitant to say I can wait two years. But whatever journey I am on, I am telling myself I am now officially taking the first REAL steps. Be that two years, or twenty. Wherever it takes me, I’m game.
Note: When organizing this weekend I came across the item shown above. If you are not familiar, Nancy Pickard is a respected Kansas author. At some point in the journey of wanting to write, we crossed paths. Sadly I can’t say for sure when, or where it happened. But I do know, this weekend the inscription above was just what I wanted/needed to read!