"Words cannot do justice to the pleasures of a good bookshop. Ironically." (On a bag from the London book store, Waterstones.)
I love going to bookstores. The way some women love to shop for clothes or shoes, I love to browse in a bookstore. New fiction, non-fiction, inspiring biographies, self-help. I have a nightstand overflowing with books I'm reading or plan to read. Whenever a problem crops up in my life, or there is something I want to understand or learn about, or I just want to excape real life, I automatically turn to books first. Somehow I think reading about something will endow me with the necessary understanding. I remember as a teenager my oldest brother saying, "All you do is read! You need to get up and do something in life!" I didn't listen to him much back then, but his thoughts came back to me in college. I purposely tried to make sure I was ACTING in my life, and not just living vicariously.
But all this reading has inspired me to attempt writing at times. I wrote my first story in fourth or fifth grade. Didn't write much as a teenager, but devoured a lot of books. But I was a VERY diligent journal keeper. Journaling helped me sort through feelings and life. And heaven knows there are tons of feelings during teen years! Journaling also helped me learn to organize my thoughts.
After much immersion in Living Life during college, I was married, living in a new state (Washington) with a new baby, and more time on my hands. I kept involved in dance, but my interest in writing crept up again. Mostly essays in my journal, though I dabbled in fiction and poetry.
More children came and life was busy. But I started reading about writing. Mainly fiction. Attended a couple of local conferences for writers and took an online creative writing course. I was so inspired by some of the fiction I read, that I wanted to write fiction that inspired others! The only problem was, I never had any good story ideas. My husband and daughter seem to have an endless supply of story ideas for their writing, but not me.
In the past year I started thinking perhaps fiction wasn't the way for me to go. I started this blog two years ago to help me practice writing and because I loved reading other women's essays on their blogs. Then I started thinking I should write my personal history, and perhaps that was a way to use my writing. So of course I looked up books on memoir writing on Amazon.com! I can't write my personal history without reading thoroughly about it, can I?
Then I sat down and decided to re-read all my blog posts on here. And an interesting thing happened: I realized my personal history is in my blog posts! This blog may not give an exact timeline of my life, but it definitely shares my slant on life and living. My tastes, my joys, my frustrations. And isn't that really what a personal history should do?
No comments:
Post a Comment