I know this much is true, if I don’t put pen to paper, I’ll lose my mind.
I feel the ink spill across the stark white page, like blood from an open vein. This is what I give to you, my life blood. And it’s not a want, it’s a need. A requirement. The words must come out, or I will drown in their excess. They are love, they are life.
There are days they bleed so much across the pages, I feel faint. Those are the good days, the days I know what flows is righteous and good. My characters, truly your characters, have so much to say that I can’t stop, I won’t stop. Their stories must be told, their words must be written.
And then, the vein collapses, dry like the Sahara.
For me, this is what writing feels like. Writing was truly my first love. It isn’t so much that I woke up one day and decided that I wanted to be a writer. I have always been a writer. There have always been stories in my mind that demanded to be put on paper, since I was a little girl. I wrote plays and performed them with my stuffed animals at the age of five or six. When in elementary school, I wrote book reports for each book I read, whether it was assigned or not. I even wrote book reports for books I read on my own. I created my own books (I wish I still had them) and would give them to friends and family and ask for reviews.
When my children were small and asked for bedtime stories, I made up tales for them. I would add to them each night. My oldest son was always the main character in his story, per his request. He wanted to be a super hero who fought monsters, so that’s what he did. My youngest son did not like stories about himself, even make believe, so I told him stories about animals that could talk and gave them names that did not exist in his world. He liked those much better. I like to think this helped instill a love of reading for them both.
I wish that I had written them down or that I could remember them now.
My childhood was not easy. I think that’s part of the reason why I retreated to a fantasy world so often, lost in books on mythology, Narnia, Alice in Wonderland, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, etc. so often. There was rarely a time when I didn’t have my nose in a book, or wasn’t writing something. Poetry, short stories, or in my own diary/journal.
Writing is not only in my blood, I feel I put my whole heart into it. It’s my passion, it’s part of who I am, and it’s as much a requirement for me as breathing. And I appreciate each and every one of you who takes the time to read my words.
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Of Whores and Horses
“Chloe, my mom said you were a whore. Does that mean since I’m kind of like your kid too that I’m a pony?”