Words. Writing words is hard. If it were easy everyone would do it. But then again isn’t that something we can say about many other careers. A writer doesn’t know he or she is a writer until something clicks. Yup, just like that. It clicks and suddenly you realize that you’ve known your entire life what you wanted to be.
My earliest memory of writing was when I was about 3 years old. It’s a vague memory that has lingered in my mind for one reason or another. But I was sitting in my pink plastic chair with the matching table covered with pieces of paper, ink, stamps, and crayons. Over the years my love for language grew. English is not my native language although If you were to hear me you’d be fooled. I have conversational knowledge of two other romance languages and wish I knew more. I wrote several stories some in Spanish, but most in English. I entered a few writing competitions and won a few. I read dozens of books and then I stopped. I felt I was thrown out of my comfort zone too quickly and forced to leave my writing behind for ‘something more’ as I was often reminded by others. I went to school and although my heart and passion longed for something else I focused on the logical path one that had a map, strict rules and ‘promise’. I think I did quite well. But, then it clicked.
So, I don’t expect someone who hasn’t written a thing in their life (school writing assignments or required application essays included) to understand. It’s happened already.
Person: What do you do?
Me: I’m a writer.
Person: Oh?
Where do people think books, movies and TV shows come from? What about all the content you read on Facebook, Huffington Post, Reddit, Buzzfeed, you name it, it’s there because someone wrote it!!
Just wanted to get that out there. I don’t think writers get as much credit as we should. So, here I am writing stories because I enjoy writing and I want to read them if you want to read them too then I’ll be ok with that.
Lemmon Avenue 