My creative writing class started yesterday!
Okay, I realize if you read this blog, then you already know I started class yesterday...considering it's all I've blogged about in my past few entries.
So far, after day one, I love it!
It's more about the practice of writing and how to separate the creative mind from the critical mind.
Ha! and I thought I was the only one that had different voices constantly clattering, crashing and clashing around in my mind!
Alas, it turns out, I'm not the only one.
The first assignment was to introduce ourselves.
After reading my fellow students introductions, it got me thinking about what it is I like about writing.
I'm still not sure!
All I know is that, from a very early age, I've always had a VERY active imagination. I always have a cast of characters running rampant in my mind, or some plot unfolding in my day dreams. I also found, again at an early age, that I liked the way writing evoked feelings from the reader. I wrote poems for friends and family to make them smile or laugh or just to make them remember a time that we shared together. For fathers day one year, I wrote a poem for my dad. I remember sitting patiently, waiting for him to open my framed "masterpiece" and read my words out loud. I couldn't wait to see him read the words that I had worked to piece together to show my admiration, gratitude and love for my dad. The moment came, he read my work out loud, my mother cried (they do that, moms, they cry at anything their children create from the heart...I've learned this over the years), my dad smiled and I was beaming with pride.
Just a few months ago, I was visiting my parents, and I happened to be sitting upstairs in my dads home office. We were chatting...well, to be honest I'm sure I was doing all of the chatting, I tend to do that (me!? yeah it's hard to imagine, huh!?)....I glanced over his meticulously organized bookshelf and spotted the framed poem, displayed beside a few other trinkets dad deems important enough to keep on display. It made me smile and it made me realize that it didn't matter if I was a great writer. It only matters that I do what I enjoy and maybe along the way, for brief moments in time, I can make someone smile, laugh, cry, or think.
I don't write because I'm a word master.
I write because it's fun.
I don't blog because I think anyone with access to the world wide web should know (or heaven forbid, agree with) what I think.
I blog because it's a creative outlet for me and maybe, as a reader, you'll appreciate (even if just a snidbit) my crazy, sometimes random, imagination.
I'm off to write the REALLY JUICY stuff in my PRIVATE journal!
Ha! I kid...I'm pretty much an open book and what the heck could I have that would be considered "juicy" ;-)