When I was a little girl, I DREAMED of becoming a writer.
Christmas presents for me were simple, notebooks, pens, and lots of binders and paper. I was always carrying a notebook around and writing things down. I wrote what I saw, what I did, what we said, and that was the the top layer of the cake. I wrote Science Fiction, Mystery, Fan Fiction, and Romance. I wanted to be a writer. I wanted to be big.
I cannot remember how old I was, but as a child my dad and I even came to an agreement that allowed me to work for my own computer, just for my writing. After lots of chores we purchased a used computer, and downloaded the only thing it needed, Microsoft Word.
That same year I was paid by my grandmother to create some documents for an upcoming family reunion. She paid me to interview people before the reunion, during and after. I created three newsletters and published them among the family.
Two years later my Aunt Suzanne and I spent most of the summer together. I'd go over to her home during the days while my mom was working and we'd both get to "work." She'd work from home, and she'd boot up a computer for me and I'd work on my writing. By that fall I was surprised to find that she had submitted one of my poems for me and I was finally a published author.
I was really excited about becoming an author. I wanted to write for a living, wanted to pour my heart and soul out into a word document and let people into the workings of my mind as their eyes scanned paperback copies of my last big seller. But that didn't really happen.
What happened was a well-meaning talk with my dad, that didn't turn out like either of us wanted. I don't know if he couldn't find the words he wanted, if he didn't know what he was saying, or if he said exactly what he meant, but instead I turned away from the possibility of being an author and turned to the medical field.
It was in the medical field that I found my voice and passion for writing again, with writing the medi-blog that I did for awhile. I loved it, adored my readers and loved that I could get my voice out there. After a few years, I quit the blog and started this blog, focusing more on what was important to me, my family, my life and my friends.
Sometimes I wonder if this is something that I should have pursued. What could I have done? What could I have become? But other times I realize that I am still a writer, an author, so to speak. Every time I log in, every time I fill the blank canvas full of words and thoughts, photos and tutorials. Every time I push "publish" I am still an author, producing work.
Sometimes I need to be reminded of that when I am trying so hard and thinking so much about blogging, about the community I am building and my readers. Sometimes I need to be reminded on being an author.