Well, it’s not really a secret. But something I have been wanting to talk about with you all, but I haven’t. Because I feel awkward, nervous about it. And then when I think about it, I’m not really sure how to go about it.
But in an attempt to be more honest with myself and remind myself I can indulge in the things that make me happy I want to talk about it here. Cause this sort of relates to it. I like to write. Poetry and short stories mostly. But I love writing. I don’t really think I am that good at it, but I still like to do it.
I’ve been writing since I was 13 years old. And I can still remember the first one I wrote. It is actually still my favorite. I called it ‘Owl’ and it was only four lines long.
The sun is rising
Go back to bed.
The sun is setting
Wake up again.
I still freaking love it. I felt so clever. In reality, I was annoyed with having to be awake so early to ride the bus to school. And 13 year old me was so full of angst.
I stuck close to my poetry growing up. Finding solace in pouring out all that was stuck in my head. And it was during those years that everything was really hard for me. And poetry was a nice, easy escape. It wasn’t until college when I had my first taste of short stories.
I think I had maybe dabbled a little in high school and created short scenes but in college was really where it all happened for me. I got to take a creative writing class with my best friend and we had the best professor. She was so funny and made the class bearable considering there were at least 3 kids in the class that the rest of the class collectively couldn’t stand.
Obviously one of the assignments was to write a short story. The only limit was that it couldn’t be more than 6 pages long. We were literally set loose and told to create whatever we wanted. And I loved what I wrote. It lit a spark in me and still to this day I get that stupid little smile whenever I think about my short story. I actually wrote a poem based on the story, titled the same. I titled it “She Took A Walk With Death” and I mean… the title pretty much explains what the story was about.
And for the past year, I have been working on some short stories in my spare time. I finished one that I loved and then hated and am planning on rewriting one of these days. I’ve been working on another one that is close to 20,000 words now. And I have concepts and characters for another two on top of that one. I like the creation process. I like creating characters and stories and scenes and all those things. I like imagining different scenarios and situations.
And I love happy endings.
And when I write I can make sure there are happy endings. I love happy endings. Of course, there is always some angst, but not much. I like some angst. Just enough to help the story progress or develop a character.
Last month I actually finished my second short story. One of my dear friends actually helped me edit most of it. I hadn’t finished it completely but I really appreciated the fact that she was willing to take time to read it and fix all my horrible grammar mistakes. I am so bad with grammar.
And at the same time, I have two… three? I think three other stories I am working on as well. And one is also almost close to being finished as well (it’s the one that is close to 20,000 words). It is exciting writing stories. Finishing pieces, and that includes these blog posts.
And that’s it for this one. I write for fun and I love it. Short stories, poetry, and blog posts I love it all.
Do any of you write? If so, what? Let me know in the comments below!