An Open Book

I need a moment to be honest. To be frank. To throw myself out there.

There is some deep rooted desire in me to write. I love to write. I don’t  really know why. I have never had any training, aside from the common English/literature class throughout school. But there is just something about a blank screen and the potential for something great. I love to read. I love to get lost in a book and learn the characters. I love it when a book can make me laugh out loud. Oh how I would love to be able to produce something like that. I can’t even tell you the joy I would feel if I walked past someone in a coffee shop reading a book I’d written and they laughed out loud.

Maybe it’s some middle child syndrome and I have the need to feel loved. Or maybe I just like to see people happy. You be the judge. (Don’t tell me the verdict.)

I can remember one time in third grade I was at a park with a friend. We were running around and making up stories and having a wonderful time. I was quite inventive back then. On this hill we found a few very suspicious objects. A glove. A bone. And a stair rail. In hindsight, the glove was probably a little kids’ batting glove that fell out of his bag. The bone was probably a toothpick or piece of plastic. And the stair rail looking thing was probably related to the sewage system or a man hole or something. I’m quite curious actually. I can’t vividly remember it- I only remember what we wanted it to be. So anyways, we instantly formulated this story based on these items. We loved this story. We needed to write it down. Her mom took us to the store and bought us a journal. We spent the rest of the afternoon writing this story down.

I want that. We were quite literally overflowing with words that we couldn’t wait one more second to write it down. I hear that’s how Stephanie Meyers was with Twilight. She woke up one morning having dreamt about a vampire and a girl standing in a meadow and couldn’t wait to find out what happened to them. So she wrote. And wrote. And wrote. And now we all know of the love story between Edward and Bella. Say whatever you want about the series (not here though), but it was a great story. I am considering taking a few doses of NyQuil each night and praying for some crazy dreams.

Just kidding. I think.

So the problem at hand is not if I can write or not. I may not be a great writer and I’m sure I am way off on some major grammer rules. But there are a consistent number of people who read what I write each day. So maybe I don’t know when to properly use “ly”  on the end of words, and yes, it often seems that I have a love affair with the comma… but you’re still reading. So I must be doing something right.

I started this blog as a challenge to myself. I always wanted to be a writer. I never had a story to tell but I always wanted to write. I figured that there would be no sense at trying my hand at a novel if I couldn’t manage to write about myself. So I challenged myself to write every day. Even if I had absolutely nothing to write about, I had to publish something. (I apologize for those days. Really.) I’m now 149 posts into this Roots & Rings venture and I’ve surprised even myself. I quite enjoy facing the blank screen each day.

Sure, there are plenty of people who don’t read. Plenty of people who are close to me that never even think about visiting this site. And while I may not understand why they don’t read, I accept it as part of the writing game. Not everyone cares about what I have to say. (Shocking, I know!)

I’m considering a new challenge. After spending the weekend at a beautiful beach house, I have this insanely strong desire to write. I don’t know if it’s the air, the clean colors, the worry free atmosphere, the big windows… I don’t know but it’s consuming my thoughts and I feel like I’m on the brink of something great. Well, maybe not great… but good. Maybe not even good. But I’m on the brink of something. I will NEVER write a novel if I don’t try. I will never write anything if I don’t just sit down and write. Right?! It’s the whole “you’ll miss 100% of the shots you don’t take” issue. I will never meet this goal if I don’t even try.

Stephen and I are visiting the idea of buying a netbook for me to explore this passion. I think a hot pink Dell mini could really stimulate my creativity.

There is really no point of this post. Maybe it’s for accountability. I can no longer ignore this desire for fear of failure. I would go out on a limb and say that 99% of all aspiring authors fail. So I think I’d be in good company. What’s worse than failure is the debilitating regret I would feel if I never even tried.

So what do I want from you? Simple. Your continued support here at R&R so that on days when I feel like I can’t write for crap, I can come here and see that someone still enjoys to read what I write. A few prayers would be good. Somehow I need to come up with a story and God knows that my imagination is lacking! And finally, if you have any knowledge on netbooks, let me know. I don’t need much. I basically just need something with Word, the internet, and it would be great if I could store photos on there. That’s all I need.

Thanks for coming here for your daily dose of R&R. You’ve encouraged me.

I’ll blame you if I fail.