Always a Writer

Cleaning up after my four year old grandson with his cutting and writing, I was suddenly taken back to my own childhood. I must have been about his age. I distinctly remember wanting to be able to write so badly that I used a pen and made sprawling loops and curlicues all across sheets of paper. I recall the strong desire to (and envy of) write like I witnessed the grown-ups around me doing. So I made up my own writing.

Years later, in middle school, I asked permission of my 7th grade teacher to go somewhere to write. Somewhere, as in not in the classroom. Class work was a variety of choices. I chose writing. I still have the cougar covered notebook filled with "The Mystery of Black Devil's Forest," my mystery novel filled with terror (7th grade version), horses (of course), and Washington state (where I must have subconciously dreamed of living, since I was devastated when we actually DID move back to Washington the following year).

When I began writing (not counting the mounds of verbage required for high school, college, and all forms of education) as an adult, I fumbled around with changing technology. Earlier writings had all been archaically completed with pencil(s) and paper. The next rounds were tapped into existence on first manual and then electric typewriters. (What's that you ask? Google it.) Finally, after many horrendously long manuscripts (for typewriters do not have word count), I made the leap to PC. Yes, that probably still dates me, as there are other forms of more cutting edge technology available. But I will keep my PC.

That first PC, though, was used just for typing the final copy. I still wrote out the manuscript by hand and then word processed it into the computer. It took numerous projects before I could get my mind around the whole game of typing and rewriting on a screen. No more pencil scribblings, circling, arrows, cross outs, or carrots adding words and phrases.

Despite the method of committing word to paper, I have to write. I see others write, and I feel that urge to pen my own. I read and want to write. I write and think of more to write. It is a compelling thing. I often don't know when to stop writing (yes, we know, you say). I can go on indefinitely. Another flashback - college blue books. We had to provide these little notebooks for certain tests that required hand written answers, paragraph style. My goal, although unstated, was to always use up all of the paper in each blue book, regardless of the exam. I wonder if technology has changed and they are allowed to use an Ipad or PC or other form of technology?

Regardless of the instrument, I have to write.

Just give me a pad of paper and a pen. I will write.