Thursday, March 1, 2012
My first positive journal writing experience was in a speech class where the professor wrote back to me in the journal. For the first time writing became an almost therapeutic experience. Today I consider myself to be more of a receiver than a transmitter. I love to read. It is my relaxation and one of my most loved passions.
I'm not sure writing will ever come close to that experience. Writing is such an intimidating thing for me. My beliefs on paper, where some subtle word choice can misconstrue my meaning. My hour long drive is my outlet to pontificate my thoughts. But there I can have those feelings and not have to justify them. I work through them and move on. Words on paper don't disappear that easily.
In one of my favorite books, Laddie by Gene Stratton Porter, the new teacher enters the one room school and impresses her students with her sparkling vocabulary. Little Sister, the main character, has an older sister that says if she can spell half the words she said that she will be the best teacher they have ever had. This leads Little Sister to wonder how many people can spell the words they use. From the two times I got out the dictionary to write here, I realize my vocabulary over reaches my spelling skills. Language mechanics are the thorn in my mental paw. Somewhere along the line they became what writing is to me. That might be where I lost some of the joy of writing.