Tuesday, June 8, 2010


* * *, originally uploaded by Knit Girl...(in & out).
What would you do if you found yourself on a deserted island?  I’ve often thought about that question.  Would I be alone or have a friend with me?  Maybe a stranger is there.  How did I get there?  If I could have anything with me what would it be?  Would I want to leave?  What would be my first plan of action?  Are there food and water sources readily available?

I am a dreamer.  I have dreams and goals that many people in the world pursue.  The difference is that I’m not sure if I am brave enough to pursue them myself.  For example, I have always wanted to be a writer.  I remember summers spent at my parents’ cabin.  For awhile, we had a trailer that my sister and I would sleep in.  Some days I would sit in the trailer at the table and start the “greatest novel of my writing career”.  My sister and I were really into reading the Sweet Valley High series at that time, so my stories seemed to have that particular slant to them.

Over the years my writing has changed.  I have so many ideas in my head I can’t seem to get them all down.  Some ideas are still quite undeveloped . . . still floating in my mind.  Others have made it onto paper (or some computer file).  Some ideas are crappy.  Many have great potential.

I’ve bought oodles of writing magazines and books expounding wisdom on writing the greatest novel.  I’ve tried some ideas and shied away from others.  I have, on many occasions, told my husband about a short story or novel idea.  He is always supportive . . . and can be brutally honest (which I really do appreciate even though I would never admit it to him at the time).  He has sat patiently listening to the beginnings of many a tale.  He must shake his head every time.

My husband (God bless him) is a practical man.  He lives in the “now”.  You rarely (if ever) will find him with his head in the clouds like me.  He is careful in his purchases . . . I am impulsive.  He is level-headed . . . I am flighty.  He is a night owl . . . I’m an early bird.  He is well-dressed . . . I grab the first thing off the floor.  He is tall . . . I am not.

But despite our differences, we are a perfect match.  We love the same TV shows and movies, we complete each other’s sentences, we love learning, we adore our daughter.  Even though we are complete opposites on one hand, on the other we are two peas in a pod.  We are inseparable.  You can’t have one without the other.

So one day recently, after bearing my soul to him about wanting to be a writer (and lamenting I felt I was not), he looked at me and said, “But you are a writer.”  I argued that a writer is one who is published and famous.  He counter-argued, “a writer is one who writes”.  He encouraged me to keep going with my blog even though I felt “nobody reads it anyway”.  Ever.

But today, I have seen myself in a different light.  Yesterday I added a counter to show me just how many people do not read my blog (because I knew I would finally be right!).  I checked the stats on the meter reading this afternoon – a mere 24 hours since I added it to my blog.  And dammit, he was right . . . again!  I do have readers.  And not just family or friends (although I love that they read my blog).  But I was shocked to discover I have readers in Canada, the United States, the United Kingdom, and other parts of Europe.

Thank you for helping me realize . . . I am a writer.

1 comment:

  1. this is so delightful..my sister is a writer..Hug a Horse on flickr...