14.01.07

    I have had a "love/hate" relationship with writing for as long as I can remember. There will be days when my ideas seem to speak for themselves. Then, I will have times when I cannot complete a single sentence without revising, second guessing or reworking the entire thought. I've started many books, blogs, short stories, and poems that later go unfinished and are left to be forgotten. Like most writers, I am my own worst critic, and I hope that I can work on allowing myself to make mistakes and not be so afraid of criticism and judgement. It's also difficult for me to stay focused on one topic, or rather, to seamlessly transition into another thought while maintaining a cohesiveness to any writing that I do. Using the current moment as an example; I am fighting every urge to explain to you how incredibly adorable my cats are. Because, they are currently chasing a small football across the living room floor as I write this blog post and I just can't stop laughing. (If that gives you any sort of insight on how my brain works.)
     Most of my writing in the past has been created with personal experience in mind. Except in third grade, I wrote a book about an invisible dog and a girl who lived in a cardboard box. (I got an award from Reading Rainbow for that one.) Because I was creating stories that were based upon personal experiences, I was revisiting conflicts in my life that I shouldn't and didn't want to dwell on. Writing became a hobby for me that would send me into a state of depression; I didn't enjoy it as I had before. I felt an obligation that my writing was supposed to inflect some sort of 'deep' and philosophical thought in order to be considered 'good.' I believe I've gotten better about that with age.

I also forgot there's another thing that I have problems with...
Endings.