So, here it is: the first "perfect" month for this blog, by which I actually had an entry (and a fairly sizable one at that) each and every day this month! This might seem a small accomplishment, but I had let this blog lapse for a long time, and only fairly recently took it up again. Mostly, it was for the challenge of it, because writing short pieces never seemed to be my forte. So, I wanted to see how long I could keep it up, aiming for one entry for the first 20 days of the new year. Once I reached this, the thought arose, "Why not just go for a "perfect" month?" And so I did, and so here I am, not so much celebrating as acknowledging it. It is a nice thought to know that I managed to do it, although there were times (tonight included) where I started the blog entry not really knowing what I could possibly write about, feeling tired and discouraged. Yet, I did manage it, so that feels like a bit of an accomplishment! It was not exactly a New Year's Resolution, but it began to be a goal of mine, without ever actually voicing it to myself. It was more of a "Wouldn't that be nice?" kind of a thing. But now that it's a fait accompli, perhaps I will make an effort to just keep this thing going. Maybe it is a statement on how strong it has been this year, or how weak I was the other two years, but there are already noticeably more entries this young year than in the two prior years combined!
That said, I figured I would answer a recent question placed to me, regarding where my interest in writing came from. Here are some of my reflections on the matter:
Every now and again, I am asked where my interest in writing comes from. Was there perhaps a particular author that really got me interested in trying my hand at writing? (The answer is yes, by the way. In Fact, I can credit more than one author, really). Had I tried other creative outlets? (Again, the answer is yes, although none of them "fit" as well as writing has.)
Truth is, though, I think my interest in writing originated with (who else?) my mom. She worked in the city as a secretary when my brother and I were very young, and I was impressed when her boss (who herself was a very accomplished, intelligent, and capable woman, but a bit full of herself and with an apparent nasty streak about her) told me that she would scribble some thoughts down on a piece of paper and leave it on my mom's desk, and it would be transformed into a very well written, cohesive letter that basically said everything that she had wanted and intended to say, and better than the way she would or could have said it, to boot! So, yes, I was impressed, and I wanted to be able to do that on my own, someday!
My mom is still a secretary, although she unfortunately hates her job. I would imagine that she still has that ability, yes. Keep in mind, I was just a kid when all of this stuff with her notes and her boss's compliment took place. She reads a lot (more than me, and perhaps more than anyone I know, even!), and she is very intelligent and independent thinking. It is an amazing ability to be able to write the way that she does, and sound so professional in the bargain.
So, it seems that she can be credited more than anybody else, perhaps, for the abilities that I possess with writing. I wanted to be able to write more creatively and, eventually, when I got old enough, and mature enough, to understand some of the subtleties to it, I think I began to "get" it a bit more. It began to show in college especially, when compliments about my writing began to seem normal.
That said, I also should say this: either writing is in you, or it is not. I know some people who write absolutely beautifully, and who are very intelligent and capable in their own right, but have not ever really tried their hand at writing. There are various reasons for this, of course. But it is interesting to know that some people just do not have enough of an interest to pursue it, although their writing abilities, their intelligence, and their eloquence in expressing themselves so often seems in such abundance!
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