Why I Write

Why do I write? What about writing keeps drawing me back? What prompts me to begin? All good questions. I think I have an answer that just might work. I didn’t learn to read until 1st grade. I wrote my “R’s” backwards. I only know this, because I looked at my school file once. One of the only things in there was a story I’d written about a picture boy and a girl when I was in Kindergarten. The other item, a good behavior or attendance slip, maybe, I don’t remember. I was just surprised that was all that was in there in my Senior year. After I learned to read, it was another escape. I loved reading. I would go to the library by myself when I could. I liked reading suspense stories, stories about kids like the ones the teacher would read. I was reading and comprehending way ahead of my grade level and the two just became my favorite past times. As I write this, it comes to me that one of my most favorite teachers ever, Mrs. Kretsinger, is the one who encouraged me the most to read and write. She focused a lot on the subject English. I had her 3 years in a row, 2 different combination classes. Even though I liked the other teachers, I feel we were the luckiest. Words can have a great impact. The way they are presented, even greater. I used to sit and read the dictionary as a past time. Along with the encyclopedias (what are those? google it.) Even the phone book. I liked learning. Reading is a great way to learn about people, places and things you may never come into contact with directly. When it comes to writing, I don’t like getting wrapped up in formality. The older I get the more I forget, grammar and meanings seem to disappear or just change altogether. I can’t even tell you if my writing is poetry, prose or whatever. I just write. If it’s not more than 1 to 2 pages it’s a poem. Other than that it’s a short story. I really should have continued with the creative writing classes, but I had other dreams and goals. I didn’t believe I could make anything writing a story like all the authors of the books I was reading. I wrote poems for family, friends, even pets. I was inspired by various types of love and music and other authors and people and pets. In high school I wrote a lot. I kept them all in a small black purse, which is now lost, much like a lot of high school mementos and work I was trying to keep. My writing led to me getting a piece published in a small paper in Wichita. I don’t even remember the name of the paper or the crappy poem I wrote. My high school counselor had suggested me and I had no inspiration, I just had to write about a certain subject. I wish at least could find a copy. I wrote a story in junior high/middle school for English that was very metaphorical and intense for a kid. I’d already been through and seen more than any kid should, but it bred a good piece of work. I believe it’s lost, too. College was the challenge. Applying for schools and scholarships, I had no idea what I was doing, somehow I was working through it alone. I don’t like writing essays and I’m not very good at them. But, that’s what most institutions want. Writing for class in college was okay, I even tried entering a contest, but gave up after it wasn’t good enough to get past my school. Writing you can keep to yourself. I liked journaling or keeping a diary. I liked giving people poems I’d written for them or a pet. Writing can keep you sane and take away the anger and depression and hate and broken hearts you keep getting. It can help you think through a lot of stuff no one is talking to you about. It can seal or break a bond. It can captivate or put someone to sleep. I encourage people to write, draw, etc. to express themselves freely. Even if you have to destroy it after. It’s all a part of the process. #everydayinspiration