Tuesday, May 23, 2017

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writing life: why I write what I write…

Have you ever felt compelled to do something? Like… it was just part of what you were here on earth to do? Like… if you didn't do it, there would be some humungous part of your experience lacking and you would fall short of heavenly expectations if you didn't do your best to do… whatever it was you felt compelled to do?

That's why I write.

I could end there, but I have so many more words to share on this… probably won't say anything more illuminating than the above. It wouldn't be like me to be so very short!

Growing up, I heard often about journal writing. I think my first journal hales back to when I was five or six years old. What a treasure to have… only to me, but still!

My Mom was early and often impressed with my writing prowess. She has and likely ever will be my number one fan… though, when my two oldest girls found out I considered her so, they decided they were in some sort of race, vying to be my number one fans. They are pretty funny. Unfortunately for them, my Mom has… like… 30 years on them! So, it'll take some pretty fantastic feats for them to overtake her.

As my number one fan, my Mom has been sure that I would and should be published for a great many years now. She has been sure FAR longer than I have! In fact, she has known and believe it longer than I even really thought much of my writing. See, how can anyone beat that? I mean… sheesh! Anyone else is jumping on the wagon that I've decided I should actually drive! Can you imagine… I mean, she's held on during all the time I wasn't driving… and now, when I'm still learning to drive and she's still stoically encouraging… I think, probably, sometimes wondering if I'll ever get this thing managed. I sure wonder, myself.

My genre isn't hers, yet she encourages me and roots for me and applauds my expressed plans and hopes. She loves historical fictions. I'm pretty sure she probably likes mystery as well. I know she reads plenty of 'self-help' type self-education books. She has only started to get into fantasy because my girls adore it and she wants to understand what they are reading and interested in. So, maybe by the time I have anything actually good written, she'll love part of my genre. Since I'm pretty solidly writing in the genre “speculative fiction,” the fact that she's beginning to enjoy fantasy is definitely a good thing.

I guess the above only illustrates that I wasn't really directed or led to my genre by my Mom's reading choices and interests. I started reading fantasy (and romance) because it was the easiest way to escape the doldrums I considered my life. Imagining other worlds… and aliens… and what it would take to make it there… and what ifs… that was exciting to me!

Now, I still feel a good bit of excitement about those things. Yet, I feel more desire to share what I see (in my imagination and otherwise) by way of a story that maybe could be… sometimes. Other times, I just want to share truths by way of a fantastical story that as far as I know really couldn't happen. Maybe those truths will be easier to understand in the context of the fantastic. Maybe not. Maybe in my stories, they will simply be one of the eight times our silly human brains need to actually GET something!

Either way, I'm doing something I truly believe Heavenly Father has directed. And what greater joy can there be but to live out His plan for our lives?
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