Friday, January 22, 2010

The Print

I wandered the soil for twenty-eight years wondering what my purpose was. I bounced off a fair amount of ideas, but nothing stuck. When I graduated high-school, I had no clue what I wanted to do. I was creative, so it seemed to be a natural path for me to attend art school. With my graphic design aspirations in tack, I ended up finding a job at a newspaper, in the advertising department.

Twelve to nineteen hour days, pasting ads together...monotonous, tedious and lots of other -ous's that didn't make me happy. After three years, I was still unable to support myself. I found a part time job at a bookstore. Of course, I loved it.

But I still didn't get the connection.

I had always been thrown in the eye of the proverbial storm. Never really getting hint; writing was my optimum goal.

I always wanted to write. I wrote a handful of books when I was a little girl, had journals scattered with ramblings of my mind. But I never thought I could.

When I was twenty eight, I woke up with an inspired idea, wrote a novel and haven't looked back since. I could have seen the signs sooner. I will blame it on my own dense mind, insecurities and a variety of other excuses which pop out at any given time. But, now when I look back I see, I was always supposed to be a writer.

The proof is in the evidence.

For all of my adult years, I worked around the print. Never in it, which was why I had an uncomfortable pit in my heart. Now, I am writing. And the black pit shrank away.

I have learned how to flesh out an idea to make it into something readable and there is nothing I won't try. With writing that is. I recently found out I could also write poetry. Never in a million years would I have considered myself a poet before. But here I am, a proverbial salt-shaker of short, impactful words which make sense.

If there is one thing I have learned from my expeirence is that nothing is easy at first. Sometimes it's hard to see the signs slapping you in the face, but in all honesty when you take the blinders off, look through the magnify glass handed to you at birth and get an in depth, look inside of yourself you will be surprised. All it takes is a little time, and eventually it will all make sense.

4 comments:

Demon Hunter said...

Awesome post! I have been writing all my life, but figured I was pretty decent when I was commended for a skit I wrote in 8th grade. I wrote my first poem in high school.

My serious writer didn't take over until I had my first horror novel idea in college and it took over from there. :-D

K.Hinny said...

That's amazing about the eighth grade commendation!!

I think if I had a little more confidence when I was younger that the writing bug would have been able to latch on a wee bit more.

But I found it now, and you are still writing that is all that is important!! :D

bettielee said...

Hinny, what I did was far worse. I knew I wanted to be a writer, just didn't both with it until I was over... 30 I think. yeah.

K.Hinny said...

At least you figured it out Bettie!!! That is what is important! You know now lady!!!

:D