You are probably asking yourself, "what makes this person believe they can blog?" Well I may not be a scholar, but it just so happens I have the answer to that question.
A long, long time ago my parents sent me to school where I was taught to read and write. It took me some time to get comfortable using a pencil, but my teachers were patient and worked with me until my penmanship improved. I was an average student and was extremely pleased to discover my above-average aptitude for spelling and grammar. Most of the books I read throughout my childhood were assigned by my teachers; however, once a week my classmates and I visited the school library and were strongly encouraged to borrow a book of our choosing. Being a simple child I preferred light reading such as the "Encyclopedia Brown" and the "Amelia Bedelia" series. These books provided hours of adolescent entertainment and ignited my curiosity and imagination. During High School, I discovered creative writing and took great pleasure in sharing my alleged sense of humor as well as exercise my scholastic proficiency. Later, in college, my focus deviated in a different direction and writing became more of a requirement than an instrument of creativity. Needless to say, it has been one of the few regrets in my life.
I have always had a deep respect for those who have capitalized on their literary gifts. Secretly, I imagine myself as the mastermind creating those captivating anecdotes; but my sensible side has always kept me fixated on my responsibilities and dissuaded from pursuing such a labor of love. I had to be content with living vicariously through these writers while their words carried me away on exciting new adventures. My commitments grew and with time I lacked sufficient privacy and solitude in which to indulge myself in novels. I began selecting shorter articles and stories and eventually discovered weblogs. Blogs seem to satisfy me not unlike a relaxing cup of coffee. They draw me in quickly then slow down long enough to savor their full-bodied flavor. Just as my thirst is quenched I am released with a feeling of gratification. I became greatly inspired by the variety of styles and found myself encouraged by the endless possibilities.
It was then I decided to ignore my sensible side and take a chance. I am not sure what, if anything, will come of it but at least I am no longer fantasizing about it. Wish me luck!
A long, long time ago my parents sent me to school where I was taught to read and write. It took me some time to get comfortable using a pencil, but my teachers were patient and worked with me until my penmanship improved. I was an average student and was extremely pleased to discover my above-average aptitude for spelling and grammar. Most of the books I read throughout my childhood were assigned by my teachers; however, once a week my classmates and I visited the school library and were strongly encouraged to borrow a book of our choosing. Being a simple child I preferred light reading such as the "Encyclopedia Brown" and the "Amelia Bedelia" series. These books provided hours of adolescent entertainment and ignited my curiosity and imagination. During High School, I discovered creative writing and took great pleasure in sharing my alleged sense of humor as well as exercise my scholastic proficiency. Later, in college, my focus deviated in a different direction and writing became more of a requirement than an instrument of creativity. Needless to say, it has been one of the few regrets in my life.
I have always had a deep respect for those who have capitalized on their literary gifts. Secretly, I imagine myself as the mastermind creating those captivating anecdotes; but my sensible side has always kept me fixated on my responsibilities and dissuaded from pursuing such a labor of love. I had to be content with living vicariously through these writers while their words carried me away on exciting new adventures. My commitments grew and with time I lacked sufficient privacy and solitude in which to indulge myself in novels. I began selecting shorter articles and stories and eventually discovered weblogs. Blogs seem to satisfy me not unlike a relaxing cup of coffee. They draw me in quickly then slow down long enough to savor their full-bodied flavor. Just as my thirst is quenched I am released with a feeling of gratification. I became greatly inspired by the variety of styles and found myself encouraged by the endless possibilities.
It was then I decided to ignore my sensible side and take a chance. I am not sure what, if anything, will come of it but at least I am no longer fantasizing about it. Wish me luck!
Thank you for taking this step!
ReplyDeleteYou are doing it for yourself and you are doing it for all of us stepmoms! Who cares what other people say! You are great.