Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Why I Read Books, But Don't Write Them


I clearly remember the day that my writer's block began. I was six years old, and my mother had given me a diary - nothing fancy, but it made me feel like a grownup! Thinking back now, I was journaling long before Oprah said it was cool. LOL

In one of my first entries, I had written about our trip to the grocery store. Only, I spelled grocery as "gotwe"! I had a little key to the diary and kept it locked...or so I thought. Somehow, as mothers can do, she found a way in and discovered my spelling faux pas. Instead of correcting me, she chastised me for the mis-spelled word (smh). Let's just say it was not a pretty picture.

I was devastated, and I swore on that day to never, ever write another personal entry for anyone to see! I didn't for a long, long time. Now that I'm older, though, I have committed my creativity to paper. But the only person that I allow to read it is my husband - a kind man who gives me constructive criticism and encourages me to keep writing. I also recently joined a local community of authors and readers, and our next meeting assignment is to bring in something that we're writing. This will be a big step for me - letting others read what I've written. I'm a little hesitant...but, hey, I'm writing this blog.

Maybe there's hope for me yet!

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