So I had a great post for you. I was typing it and typing it and it was all about how I was grateful and thankful for my writing. Then my seven year old accidentally knocked the cord off my computer, the battery died, and I lost it. Because you know, I forgot to save it.
I am thankful for my writing. I am so grateful that the words are no longer bottled up inside of me. But I’m also a mom managing a 7 year old who wants attention. What’s a girl to do?
In the tradition of moms everywhere… I’m going to punt.
Writing has always been a part of me. From the moment I learned to read, I wanted to tell stories. I’ve had the pleasure of riding a dirt bike down a mountain, flying with dragons, being the first mage of an eon to have power enough to heal the world, and walked down the path to my own salvation. Just because it never happened doesn’t mean it isn’t true. It’s where I work out the truth of my life, even if it is often against the backdrop of dragons, castles, mages… or even a witch, a ghost and a vampire who are best friends (my current work in progress).
I’ve also had the privilege of listening to my son tell a story, making sure that he had a beginning a middle and an end. For a while he was dictating a story every single night. That kind of dedication awed me. Lets be honest, it also made me work on my wip just a little bit more because if a seven year old can have that kind of discipline, how could I not follow his example?
Storytelling is a part of our lives now, and it feels good.