Composition 101

let us take a few minutes out of our hectic every day lives to discuss a subject of great importance. the subject is that of writing. the act of writing, reading the written works, and anything else that you can think of that might fall into this fairly broad category.

i have a nack for writing. its something that i love to do, whenever i have free time and even when i dont. i carry journals with me everywhere, i write a blog, and should the occasion come up that i need to write something down but i have no paper, ill be the weird quirky girl in the corner of the diner grabbing napkins and scribbling little notes all over them. yep, the crazy curly redhead maniac with pen smears all over her hands is me.

im good at descriptive writing. writing those short chapters that focus on one thing with as much detail as possible, bringing a perfect picture into the minds of the readers, kind of like those mini chapters from Steinbeck's books, but no where near as good as his. then there are certain people (dee if youre reading this take a bow), who are good at holding together a plot. they start writing something and from the minute the pen hits the paper or the cursor starts flying, they can already see where they are going. they can see that somewhere at the end of the very long tunnel, the story will tie together and be a whole complete story. there are people (dee, take another bow) who are good with dialogue. they can write out whole conversations on paper and have them sound natural, make them sound real, and they cane make them flow. i am not one of those people. i can write essays. i can write descriptions. for five pages i can focus on the beauty of a single thunderstorm, a walk on the beach, the wonder of walking through swirling leaves on an autumn day. but to write something in live dialogue? i suck. hey dee, you reading this? you and me, we should get together. we could write something really cool together.

all i know is that my pens are writing out of ink very quickly and i dont have any money to buy more right now. stinks being a poor college student.

for the past week ive had this feeling. not an unusual one, im used to it. but its a nagging one. it sits right in between my stomach and my chest and just kind of germinates. i know what it means. it means i need to write something. it means there is a story brewing in there somewhere, waiting to get out. its just sitting there, waiting for me to get some sort of inspiration or signal to its presence, at which time it will pop up and say, "hello! im here! ive been waiting for you so long! and here i come, a fully developed idea. all you have to do is take and stick me on a piece of paper". well it hasnt happened yet. im still waiting for some clue as to what this story is supposed to be about. i still have to figure out if its going to be a story. for all i know, it could be an essay, or another funny poem for another one of the guys at landers (oh hey, nine guys engaged in one week, there's a story somewhere in there for sure), or some sort of prose. maybe its a short story, the kind thats only three or four pages long or maybe its the kind that kind of keeps going and youre not quite sure if there is an end in sight. once i figure out this crucial first step it will be much easier.

i know what you guys are all thinking. youre thinking, "shut your yap already and get writing! just write and eventually something coherent will come of it!" i would, really i would. but let me tell you, there is nothing more intimidating then sitting with a pen poised over a fresh piece of paper. blank paper, ready to be written on, so attempting to just set your pen on that paper and just scribble anything that comes into your mind. but yet, to those of you who are writers out there, we know that while the paper is a forgiving space, a space that allows you to have a large leeway of trial and error, we also know that the paper is a holy place. once you write something down its out of your head. its not just a thought swimming in the murky undeveloped part of your brain where half formed thoughts flit to and fro, enticing you to think and dwell and dream. once its on a piece of paper its no longer just the imagination. in the fairy land of writers and readers it is now the gospel truth. once its on a piece of paper its concrete it cannot be erased. it is now part of you, a piece of all the works you have written no matter how small or insignificant. so now perhaps you understand my hesitation to begin this possibly great work without an idea of where it might possibly go.

and now, all you unbelievers, shut your YAPS. all you believers out there- ready, set, WRITE!