Been awhile since I have added anything to my blog. I have found the way back to writing through Kate Messner's online writing camp, Teachers Write. I am challenging myself to participate every day. As a girl, I wrote all of the time. In college, I dreamed of one day writing a book. But, as life got in the way, my dreams and hopes were set aside to take on new roles and challenges. I realize (once again) that writing is my way back, my reinvention. Writing allows me to explore who I am, who I once was, and who I want to be. It helps me probe my deepest thoughts, unbury emotions and memories inside, and connects me with a community of other writers.
I just finished my first assignment, a quick write about a place, describing it using sensory details. My mind drifted back to my girlhood home in Oakwood Village (small town Ohio) on Garden Road. I spent every waking moment of the summer racing around the dead end street (they weren't called cul-de-sacs back then), running through the woods with my sister and my neighbors, and imagining. I can still taste the sweetness of the sun-warmed blackberries and the tartness of the hand picked apples from our trees on my tongue. The more I wrote, the more I remembered the childhood I lived--and glimpsed the carefree imaginings of the childhood I want my kids to remember when they look back. I didn't realize how powerful a few lines could become. . . . As my pen flitted across the blank page, I began sketching, annotating all of the hidden places in our yard and the accompanying memories. And, so I sit here in the Quiet Room at the library, wrapped in a blanket of memories.
Today, I promise to devote at least 15 minutes a day to reclaiming my writing life. I have asked my six year old son to join me. He was an avid writer in his kindergarten journal. We have decided to write together. Together we will sit in our dining room or curled on our green couch with our Writer's Notebooks and write.
I can't wait.
