The Child Writer

Today I woke up and decided that if I'm going to make a success of this blog I needed to get more organized. First everything came out of a credenza drawer that is filled with most of my "current" writing. The majority of it is reams of loose-leaf handwritten pages and snippets of paper tagged with quotes and random thoughts. Next came the large plastic waterproof container from my storage that holds file folders of unfinished book projects and various journals started but never finished.

My motive in this exploration is two-fold. First there is the desire to recognize my writing heritage and secondly I'm actually hoping that there might be something contained therein that I can post on days when I'm feeling blocked.

Once everything was gathered in one spot and spread out before me the volume of the work I have produced over the years is surprising and encouraging. After weeding through bits and pieces I picked up the small loose-leaf sheet of paper that contains my very first creative writing paragraph. It was written when I was in Grade 4 and I was eight years old. There was no nostalgic feeling of being transported back in time but the adult me sat looking at the somewhat innocent handwriting and the classroom before me where everything occurred. As I looked back at the scene and the little me sitting there, who would've known that little girl was beginning what would become decades of personal pleasure and sustenance for her spirit.