“The Road goes ever on and on down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone, and I must follow, if I can, pursuing it with eager feet, until it joins some larger way where many paths and errands meet. And whither then? I cannot say” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
Magical. This is how I would describe this experience.
I always liked writing. I couldn’t wait to read my creative stories in writing class as a kid. The entire school, 28 students, shuffled into the ‘Lower Room’ – the classroom where first through fifth grade students did their learning. Yes, my elementary school was that small. Eagerly, with my crumpled hand written pages laying in front of me, I listened to all the other stories waiting until I could tell my story of the week. I lived for that class.
After I left elementary school and entered higher education my eagerness wained. The idea of me being an author felt like I wanted to be the ruler of the universe, impossible. Along with the fact that I grew up in a state that most Americans outside the midwest believe still live in the 1860’s, I was not talented at English and/or literature. I struggled to read as a kid, constantly reading large words wrong and losing my place on the page, a second grader could out spell me when I was in fifth grade, and my punctuation resembled an angry ranter on Twitter too eager to have his feelings known to care to add any oxford commas, periods, or real words for that matter. Basically, I was a blind kid who wanted to create visual art – deeply delusional and the perfect butt to any joke.
After many hours of using dictionary.com and the saving grace of spell check, I slowly improved my writing and reading skills. Yes, I am light years behind my literary peers, but I still have a dream – to have my voice heard, to tell stories.
Writing used to be only for the skilled and rich. Publishing a book was the only way to have your inner thoughts heard. Now, in 2017, this isn’t the case. All you need is internet access and a WordPress account. We all have been freed from the red tape of the publishing company. The only audience we are required to impress is ourselves, and even that isn’t required. This is what I needed. This is what a lot of people needed.
Today I celebrate the birth of a journey I am free to embark on. The journey of the writer. The journey of the author. I am not really any good, but I don’t need to be. And in all actuality, there are some pretty crappy published authors out there. I am excited that I finally have a hobby that may have a little value, instead of wasting my time on hours of watching YouTube and Bates Motel.
Just A Star: 1 in 100, Billion 