Going off the rails...
Way off topic for my usual blogs but here goes...
I love to write and I honestly believe writing is apart of who I am.Writing isn't something that can be forced. You have to truly feel the words that you are writing. It is like painting a picture, with words, into someone's mind. Making them see every single detail in the story exactly the way you envision it. Fashioning the words to rise off of the paper and come to life as they read them. Generating the feeling as if the readers are walking through real life waiting for the next exhilarating event while they are hanging onto every single word in the story.
I began loving to write when I was young and full of imagination. My earliest memory of writing was when I was around eight years old living with my grandmother. To this day I could not tell you what my stories entailed but I remember distinctly writing a small set of books, written on loose leaf paper and tied together by the pre-punched holes with yarn I had found laying around the house. I had even done my own illustrations. Rough looking I'm sure, but hey, I was eight! I also have a strong love for drawing and coloring. My mother is, what I believe to be, an unknown artist, so I assume that is where my drawing abilities were born. She doesn't give herself much credit for the works of art she creates but they are all beautiful and I aspire to one day be as good as her.
A few years ago I began to write a book that I had actually thought up in the sixth grade. You see when I was in sixth grade we were instructed to write stories many different times. I remember distinctly two of the stories I wrote about. One was meant to be a short story to show our skills of elaboration and imagery. I proceeded to write my story of a nightmare about an attack of living slime and ended the story with an alarm "BEEP BEEP BEEP, and then I woke up,' effect. The second story I remember writing though, was one we had to really work on to edit many times and have others edit for us, as well as illustrating and creating our own covers. We worked for weeks on this project and by the end we had each finished our very own book! Our teacher took our pictures to put into the back cover of the books we had written and said she was sending our finished work to a small village in Africa to some children in need. I was so proud of my book and even more so with the idea of my very first real book (or at least the closest thing to a real book I had created) going across the world to some kid I had never met, so that they might have a book of their own. I wrote that book and poured my imagination (what imagination a twelve year old had) into it in hopes of making an amazing work of art. From the creative words and storyline to the one of a kind artwork to follow the events held within.
After having children and reading hundreds or quite possibly thousands of books, I started thinking about that book I had written so many years before. I remember the title and a bit of what it was about. I often pondered about where the book had traveled to, who received the book and how many people had the chance to read it before it became to tattered and old to comprehend. I only wish I had made a second copy to keep for myself. Knowing that my children would probably never get to read my only work of art I came up with a brilliant plan. I decided to write a new and improved book with the same title! I sat down and in a mere minutes had chapter after thrilling chapter flowing out of me. It came to mind so quickly I almost hadn't enough time to write it all down before the words disappeared into thin air as if they were just circling overhead. For days and weeks I would find myself writing to add to the story. There were even times that ideas would come to me in my sleep and I would wake up to write it down. I slept with paper and pen on my side table so that I wouldn't miss a beat. Some nights I could see the words so vividly it was almost as if I were walking through the story. I could reach out and touch the trees and feel the water actually running through my hands. I was alive with imagination! This went on for weeks and weeks until I finally finished my book.
Now my book was finished, but I was afraid that no one else would enjoy my book as much as I had hoped. I read the story over and over again to make sure to edit any mistakes. Then I asked Jay to read it. Having someone else read it helped give a different perspective as well as gave an extra pair of eyes to catch any misspellings or words that I missed because my mind knew what it was suppose to say and automatically filled in any blanks. After having him read it I asked my mom and maybe a few others to read it just for some extra opinions. After everything was said and done they all banded together and told me and harped on me to publish my book. I did not publish it. I was too afraid it wasn't good enough and I didn't know the route to publish this book I wrote. I am working on a sequel to the first book I wrote and I still do not have the first one published, three years later. I WILL publish this book. I have to do it before my children are too old to enjoy the story it has to tell. I guess I am honestly just writing this for me, to tell myself that I need to publish my book. I need to find out the starting point and get my butt into gear and just get it done. The thing is, I fear it is not good enough. It is very hard to overcome fear but I hear that once you face it it's like you have this new profound confidence you never knew you had. I want that! BRING IT ON!
Writing on this blog has really made me more confident in my work because even if no one sees this blog I have it out there. It is posted for the world to see and even if no one ever sees it I know I tried and that is all that matters. I am like many other people, one who starts something and then when it comes time to end it I just stop. Not because I can't continue but because for far too long I have been a scared little girl worried about what this BIG judging world thinks about me. No more will I let what people think about me depict who I am. No more will I let the worlds cross words and judging eyes make me feel small. I am me and I am loved and I want my children to see me standing strong so that they know they can be strong too! Be YOU! Be yourself no matter what the rest of the world has to say because succumbing to uniformity is torture to your soul. Normal is the new weird! So stand up and let your weird shine!
Anyway I guess now I am off topic and rambling so I will conclude here and say I am going to step up and start searching for the starting point to get my book published and who knows maybe down the road you will read it too! As always if you haven't already follow us on Instagram and YouTube and remember to have a good time and I'll catch ya later. Bye Guys!
I love to write and I honestly believe writing is apart of who I am.Writing isn't something that can be forced. You have to truly feel the words that you are writing. It is like painting a picture, with words, into someone's mind. Making them see every single detail in the story exactly the way you envision it. Fashioning the words to rise off of the paper and come to life as they read them. Generating the feeling as if the readers are walking through real life waiting for the next exhilarating event while they are hanging onto every single word in the story.
I began loving to write when I was young and full of imagination. My earliest memory of writing was when I was around eight years old living with my grandmother. To this day I could not tell you what my stories entailed but I remember distinctly writing a small set of books, written on loose leaf paper and tied together by the pre-punched holes with yarn I had found laying around the house. I had even done my own illustrations. Rough looking I'm sure, but hey, I was eight! I also have a strong love for drawing and coloring. My mother is, what I believe to be, an unknown artist, so I assume that is where my drawing abilities were born. She doesn't give herself much credit for the works of art she creates but they are all beautiful and I aspire to one day be as good as her.
A few years ago I began to write a book that I had actually thought up in the sixth grade. You see when I was in sixth grade we were instructed to write stories many different times. I remember distinctly two of the stories I wrote about. One was meant to be a short story to show our skills of elaboration and imagery. I proceeded to write my story of a nightmare about an attack of living slime and ended the story with an alarm "BEEP BEEP BEEP, and then I woke up,' effect. The second story I remember writing though, was one we had to really work on to edit many times and have others edit for us, as well as illustrating and creating our own covers. We worked for weeks on this project and by the end we had each finished our very own book! Our teacher took our pictures to put into the back cover of the books we had written and said she was sending our finished work to a small village in Africa to some children in need. I was so proud of my book and even more so with the idea of my very first real book (or at least the closest thing to a real book I had created) going across the world to some kid I had never met, so that they might have a book of their own. I wrote that book and poured my imagination (what imagination a twelve year old had) into it in hopes of making an amazing work of art. From the creative words and storyline to the one of a kind artwork to follow the events held within.
After having children and reading hundreds or quite possibly thousands of books, I started thinking about that book I had written so many years before. I remember the title and a bit of what it was about. I often pondered about where the book had traveled to, who received the book and how many people had the chance to read it before it became to tattered and old to comprehend. I only wish I had made a second copy to keep for myself. Knowing that my children would probably never get to read my only work of art I came up with a brilliant plan. I decided to write a new and improved book with the same title! I sat down and in a mere minutes had chapter after thrilling chapter flowing out of me. It came to mind so quickly I almost hadn't enough time to write it all down before the words disappeared into thin air as if they were just circling overhead. For days and weeks I would find myself writing to add to the story. There were even times that ideas would come to me in my sleep and I would wake up to write it down. I slept with paper and pen on my side table so that I wouldn't miss a beat. Some nights I could see the words so vividly it was almost as if I were walking through the story. I could reach out and touch the trees and feel the water actually running through my hands. I was alive with imagination! This went on for weeks and weeks until I finally finished my book.
Now my book was finished, but I was afraid that no one else would enjoy my book as much as I had hoped. I read the story over and over again to make sure to edit any mistakes. Then I asked Jay to read it. Having someone else read it helped give a different perspective as well as gave an extra pair of eyes to catch any misspellings or words that I missed because my mind knew what it was suppose to say and automatically filled in any blanks. After having him read it I asked my mom and maybe a few others to read it just for some extra opinions. After everything was said and done they all banded together and told me and harped on me to publish my book. I did not publish it. I was too afraid it wasn't good enough and I didn't know the route to publish this book I wrote. I am working on a sequel to the first book I wrote and I still do not have the first one published, three years later. I WILL publish this book. I have to do it before my children are too old to enjoy the story it has to tell. I guess I am honestly just writing this for me, to tell myself that I need to publish my book. I need to find out the starting point and get my butt into gear and just get it done. The thing is, I fear it is not good enough. It is very hard to overcome fear but I hear that once you face it it's like you have this new profound confidence you never knew you had. I want that! BRING IT ON!
Writing on this blog has really made me more confident in my work because even if no one sees this blog I have it out there. It is posted for the world to see and even if no one ever sees it I know I tried and that is all that matters. I am like many other people, one who starts something and then when it comes time to end it I just stop. Not because I can't continue but because for far too long I have been a scared little girl worried about what this BIG judging world thinks about me. No more will I let what people think about me depict who I am. No more will I let the worlds cross words and judging eyes make me feel small. I am me and I am loved and I want my children to see me standing strong so that they know they can be strong too! Be YOU! Be yourself no matter what the rest of the world has to say because succumbing to uniformity is torture to your soul. Normal is the new weird! So stand up and let your weird shine!
Anyway I guess now I am off topic and rambling so I will conclude here and say I am going to step up and start searching for the starting point to get my book published and who knows maybe down the road you will read it too! As always if you haven't already follow us on Instagram and YouTube and remember to have a good time and I'll catch ya later. Bye Guys!
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