Writing can be a lonely process. You get the urge to put thought on paper, you start clicking away at the keys, you finally find that one line, that one word that makes the whole writing process just right and then….. there’s no one around to share it with. And when you do find someone, a new anxiety begins…
You hope they “get” what you are trying to say. You hope they at least understand it, but most of all you want them to love it as much as you do. And you wait with bated breathe hoping that something good and positive will result. You try to read their body language, you try to comprehend what’s going through their minds by the images their face portrays and little by little you drive yourself more crazy than when you were when you began putting thought to paper. But in the end, it’s all about the writing. The passion. The love. And if they like what you wrote, you walk away taller than when you first were when you walked into their space. And if they don’t like it, you walk out a bit shorter trying not to feel defeated but by the time you sit back down and begin typing again, you think to yourself, “Oh what do they know any way?”
Writing has been a passion of mine for years. After years of writing this and that and growing frustrated, I finally decided to do something, anything that would help me focus on this endeavor of mine. I found myself one morning in a room with several other women who shared the same passion, frustration and dream. We were all there, taking time from our daily routines and devoting it to us, for us and all about us.
Before I knew it, our class was over and we all went our separate ways. I remembered coming home that last day on the bus wondering, “Is that all there is?” I put writing aside and focused on family life again but the fires kept burning. Well, we connected again several months later and as a result – SCRIBBLERS was born and here we are; writing, dreaming, frustrated, excited and blogging!
It wasn’t easy putting a blog together. That meant that I would be sharing my work but not being able to read the body language or observe the looks on the faces as my words were read. Once I got past that neurosis and realized it was one less thing to stress out about, I then had to find the courage to let go of the fear of sharing.
And here I am.
Thanks for being here.