|Writing shouldn't be hard. After all it is just one word after another. I use words everyday, so why are these words filling me with apprehension?
For years I have told myself that when the kids are older and when I had more time I would take writing seriously. I imagined myself sitting down and devoting hours to undisturbed writing. As the years slip by, one faster than the other, I realize that my fantasy of writing needs to adapt a bit if I want it to become a reality.
I don't have dreams of writing the great American novel, I would just like to write stories that my family would enjoy. Tales that would let them see me in a new light. Stories that will surprise them. So, why am I afraid to put one word down after the other?
In a dark little corner buried way in the back of my mind I have a secret. What's this treasure that I hold on to? In high school I was the only one in my creative writing class to receive an A from a teacher who stated up front that he never gave out A's. What an incredible feeling! This was easy for me and a teacher that I respected saw potential in me.
Do I want to shatter that illusion from my youth? Maybe I'm really just average and the teacher was in a good mood for a semester. What if my classmates were so terrible it made me look like a genius in comparison?
By taking these simple words and putting them down one after the other I am becoming vulnerable. A small piece of my history that I have held onto is now public. This is something that only I am responsible for. Not my parents, not my husband, not my children. This is mine. That's why I am apprehensive. This is mine. That's why I am excited.