“Pick a topic and start writing.”
I would hear those words high school journalism class and stare for a full minute before something would come. It never came easy for me, just ‘picking a topic’. I would need some fire, some passion before I could fully attack a piece of paper with real gusto. And paper … I hate paper. Really. Handwriting isn’t one of my strong suits, and handwriting for FOUR PAGES was like bamboo shoots underneath my fingernails. Hand cramps would come first, followed by arm cramps, followed by blurred vision, and finally I would just pass out! I’m exaggerating of course, but to this day I can’t look at a sheet of college ruled without shuddering.
I find that writing comes very naturally to me. It didn’t always. I can remember a point in junior high where I was complaining to my English teacher about having to write an essay. She told me “Just talk to the paper.” An intriguing notion, I must admit. I tried it and fell in love. Never again would I agonize over what words to say. Whatever popped into my head was what ended up on the paper. In the beginning it was a reader’s nightmare, my idea of sentence variation was starting each one with different word. After a time, though, things began to improve. I began to actually enjoy writing!
In college, I hated writing research papers. All of the style rules, and bibliographical hoops to jump through didn’t really sit too well with me. Creative writing was more my forte. I haven’t written any pieces for several years now, but as this blog illustrates, there is a new beginning for almost anything.
As a new dawn approaches on my writing, I hope to fulfill some unseen need that compels me. Like a panther stalking prey unawares I hope to pounce on any inspiration and wrestle it to the jungle floor and rip it wide open, spouting glorious effervescence and gorging myself until no more could possibly fit.
My junior high teacher also said to leave all your pieces on a high note, even better if you could squeeze in a metaphor that reeks of imagery. And a personal anecdote was tops.
Hey … three out three. I’m out. Peace.
