The Reading Club

I have an overwhelming urge to write today. I went to my local library on Friday and found 'Chicken Soup for the Writer's Soul' It is inspiring to hear how others started writing, why, what and where. It's encouraging that many people have started by thinking the same thing I have. 'Who cares what I have to say? And why would anyone want to PAY for my stories?' I have to say my writing has been a hidden talent, even from myself at times. I know that I have a creative mind and many different ideas for stories but other than that; I wouldn't consider myself a 'real' writer. Although after reading this book, who's to say (including myself) that I am not a REAL writer. I'm writing right now, am I not? Therefore I am a writer.

I would have to say my love for words actually started out as a love/hate relationship. I was in first grade and I so desperately wanted to read. My mother had been reading to me for years, taking me to the library with her and helping me pick out books to read together in the days to come. I was so enthralled with the words, always wondering what they said and how to actually comprehend them in my mind. I felt like it was a secret club, members only and I was not yet a member. As the children in my classroom began to understand sounds and recognize words I fell behind. I would get so frustrated and worked up that I would break into a sweat trying to read. I was sent to a special classroom with other students that were having a hard time learning to read. I now am grateful for my teachers Mrs. Fast and Mrs. Cripe for this opportunity but at the time as a six year old; I was mortified. I was so embarrassed by being in this class, I mean I loved books! I should be able to read!

Luckily I learned, slow to start but I am proud to say today I am a speed reader. I devour books 2-3 in a week. I lose myself in the storyline and become friends with the characters. I laugh when they do something funny, cry when something sad happens and (maybe I shouldn't admit this) think about them when I am unable to pick up my book. I think my love for books/reading was magnified in that first grade classroom. This was a society I wanted to be part of and I was having a mighty hard time getting in. I had to fight for that membership, I would cry, get mad, hate myself for how 'stupid' I was.

I am not stupid. This has taken me many years to realize but it is the truth. This was test, an obstacle to overcome, a realization of a hidden talent just waiting to be seen. I can write. I can write because I can read and I can read because I took the time to fight for it. Of course there were days I didn't want to practice but I did because I knew this was something special, even at the tender age of six I knew this was something I wanted in my life....

I have so much more to say but to be honest I want to organize my thoughts. I will say this. I am going to write everyday. To be a writer you must write. And write I will do...


Now back to my reading :)