There's No Such Thing As Too Much

I will one day look back on 2009 as the year when I finally began to believe in myself as a writer. I can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t write. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t receiving some form of instruction to improve my writing. I can’t remember a time when I did not identify myself in my own mind as a writer.

But my name has rarely been attached to my best writing. Through my day jobs, I have frequently written compelling appeals and calls to action, but have rarely had a byline; in fact, I often sign other people’s names to them. Sure, I keep samples for the portfolio I’ve never created, but the evidence of my writing does not seem entirely tangible without my name next to it. (Side note – I am not complaining; this is the nature of the kind of work I do – work I find incredibly fulfilling).

In my personal life, I’ve written more poetry than I can even recall. But until recently, no one had ever read it. I write because that’s how I process what’s going on in my life and the world around me. It’s a creative outlet that helps me understand my own thoughts and feelings. It’s just what I do.

If 2008 was the most difficult year I’ve ever been through (see first post to this blog, “I Don’t Know How She Does It”), 2009 has so far been the most inspired. I continue to face some major challenges and obstacles in my daily life, but I’m also very excited to be growing by leaps and bounds as a writer.

I am no good with New Year’s resolutions, but I did make some promises to myself around the first of the year. I thought about how I’ve always wanted to be someone who keeps a journal regularly, and how I beat myself up about not having documented some of my life’s monumental moments. And I vowed to find ways to create opportunities to write. Any accomplished writer will tell you that the way to get better is to read and write. A LOT.

So I started this blog in January. I figure if the possibility exists that someone out there may be reading it, I will hold myself accountable for posting regularly (once a month is the schedule, at least for now, although you’ll notice I missed posting in April). I am encouraged by the positive feedback I’ve been receiving. It feels good to have someone start up a conversation based on something they’ve read here, explore a topic further, and/or share their own perspective.

I also started a gratitude journal. It’s still a journal, of sorts, but it has a theme, rather than serving as a record of all that’s going on (which is sometimes too much to face in the format of a diary). Each night, before I go to sleep, I take a few minutes to reflect back on my day and record five things for which I am grateful. I also write about an interaction I had with someone during the course of the day that made me feel grateful. This ranges from some showing of compassion by my son, to a friend performing some unexpected act of kindness, to a stranger offering me a tissue when I sniffle in a coffee shop. The added benefit of the gratitude journal is that it directs me to focus on positive things before going to sleep. In the past, I almost dreaded going to bed because I’d lay there and my mind would start racing and I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. So the gratitude journal, you see, serves several purposes.

And the biggest piece of the puzzle is the independent study in poetic expression I just completed at Penn State York. I have taken many writing classes over the years, but they’ve all been professional writing classes – journalism, business writing, grant writing, etc., etc., etc. I have never taken a creative writing class in my life. And while I write poetry every day, virtually no one had ever laid eyes on any of it prior to this semester. My enthusiasm for this study is a testament to how much I admire and trust my professor as both an instructor and a writer.

I have always been one who appreciates The Red Pen, but my thirst for constructive feedback has reached new heights in the last few months. This class had, without a doubt, more of an immediate and profound impact on my writing, my work, and my life in general, than all the other classes I’ve taken – combined. It was the perfect storm of one-on-one instruction with a great mentor and absolutely perfect timing. This was exactly the right moment in my life to have this opportunity, and I am so grateful for it.

I am keeping my fingers crossed that all the details will soon be ironed out for a second independent study that will focus on publishing. If you had told me last year that I would be considering – let alone looking forward to – submitting any of my work for publication, I’d have thought you were nuts. Further proof that the only constant in my life is change.

Once I complete the second study, I’m hoping (pending receipt of an undergraduate research grant) to launch a publishing project and invite you to participate. I’ll post details here when I have them – maybe as soon as this fall.

The only thing I've ever wanted to be is a writer. I’m doing what I love. So the lesson here is that the more opportunities I’ve managed to create for myself to write – often and in varied forms – the closer I’ve gotten to finding my voice and honing my skills. This is true with most things in life; practice makes perfect. Go out there and do what you love to do – with reckless abandon.