The best thing about blogging is how it’s helping me to write more.
I’ve always loved writing. It was my favorite thing to do as a kid. I used to make up these stories in junior high school, inspired by R.L. Stine’s teen horror stories, Fear Street. The compiled stories were called Huguenot Avenue and they were about my friends. In each story, one of my friends would kill another of my friends, usually because of jealousy, love, or attention-seeking, and several of my friends would play detective and would figure it out. It was hysterical and ridiculous. My Language Arts teacher adored these stories. As an adult now, I understand how much joy and laughter they brought her. (I mean, these stories were scary. My ten-year-old self didn’t quite understand – why was she always laughing?!?!)
I struggle to write as much as I want to, and yes, in the depth of my heart, there’s a strong desire to write a book. But writing a book, for me, is not nearly as important as just writing itself. Writing helps me, and writing heals me.
I’m including a link to a Dear Sugar letter and response below. For any who don’t know, the writer Cheryl Strayed previously wrote an advice column for The Rumpus, which has since led to a book (Tiny Beautiful Things) and a podcast (Dear Sugar Radio), both of which are inspiring and wonderful. The letter I included is from Cheryl to a 26-year-old girl who is struggling to write, and Cheryl’s letter, which is chock full of wisdom, ends with a wonderful, beautiful, inspiring statement: Write like a motherfucker. Which is definitely what I aim to do. 🙂