Writing

When I was younger, I always wanted to write.  I kept notebooks and notebooks of poetry and I was meticulous about them. If I had to cross out a word or, God-forbid, tear out a page – I had to start over with a whole new notebook. I thought for sure that someday, I would write books. I loved to read them, couldn’t get enough, why couldn’t I write them too?  If only it were that easy!  I started many fiction stories and often, no later than page 10, I would realize exactly how tedious writing a book is.  I just did not have the patience for it.  When I read a book, I read quickly.  It’s something I have always done, because I am impatient. I want to know the end-game right now.  I taught myself to skim (thanks Stephen King for putting SO much detail into a book that I learned this little trick).  Don’t get me wrong. I READ everything, but I process it a second later. It’s like driving a car.  When you drive, you don’t (or shouldn’t) stare at the speedometer.  You glance at it, and as you are looking back up, you tell yourself what you just saw.  That is often how I read. Glance, then inform. I’m pretty good at it.  When you WRITE a book however, there is NO getting to the end quickly.  You have to pay attention to every ‘he said’ ‘she replied’ ‘they laughed’, etc, etc, etc.  Oy, talk about details. 

Okay, so what is my point in that entire paragraph?  Honestly?  I guess there really isn’t one, except to give you a little insight into me.  I want to start my blog over.  I lost motivation years ago, and now, I feel like I have so much more to say, all the time. I’m sure much of it will come across as the ramblings of a crazy person, but it’s worth a shot.  In all those years that I fancied becoming a writer, I was never actually GOOD at it, so good luck with this!