Just write

Write. In my religion we’re taught that every living thing, every leaf, every bird, is only alive because it contains the secret word for life. That’s the only difference between us and a lump of clay. A word. Words are life, Liesel. –Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

I have always loved words. Reading. Spelling. Vocabulary. Journaling. Word art (real art, not the Microsoft version). Words are powerful. A carelessly chosen word can cause pain. A well chosen word can bring healing.

When I was growing up, I dreamed of being a writer. I wanted to write books that impacted people. But I wouldn’t write. I didn’t think I had anything new to say. I didn’t think I was all that interesting. I didn’t think I had enough credentials to write. While I’ve experienced a lot of things in my life, I don’t feel all that confident in sharing the lessons I’ve learned. So I just didn’t write.

In the last few years, a few people have encouraged me to write anyway. One friend gifted me a book called Speak as a not-so-subtle hint. Once when I was pointing out someone I had recently met, whom I admired, Mike said, “Yeah, but she hasn’t written a book.” When I said that I hadn’t either, he responded, “Yes, you have in your head.” My therapist has told me repeatedly that I have a book or two in me. Who knows if the future holds anything for me as a writer.

I am learning, though, that the act of writing – sitting down with pen and paper or at the computer and recording whatever comes to my mind – is healing for me. I write for me.

Last weekend, Mike bought me a new laptop. A beautiful, cutting edge Surface Book. He downloaded writing software. So I can write a book.

He said, “People with less credentials than you have written books. I know you don’t have time to write a book now, but I want you to know that I’m committed to supporting your passion.”

I recently joined an online writing group (http://hopewriters.com/). I find that a little overwhelming, too. They are sharing about monetizing blogs, writing book proposals, marketing books, etc. Thankfully, there are a lot of people there like me. They call us “hesitant writers.” A little over a year ago, I wrote an essay that I never shared called “the reluctant writer.”

Honestly, I’m not sure exactly why I’m sharing this with you. When I follow a blog and someone says, “Hey, I haven’t been writing much, but I’m going to start writing more,” I find it pretty annoying. And usually they don’t actually start writing more. But I feel like I need to be more intentional about writing if I ever want to be a writer. I’m hoping that saying this publicly will help keep myself accountable to actually write.

And now I have a spiffy new laptop to do it on, which is a great reminder that I have an invested supporter.

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