I love your brain

This year I’m determined to learn how to better promote my blog. I’d at least like to figure out how to link it to a Facebook page I created for it. I’ve come to realize that I enjoy sharing my writing more than I previously thought I did. I don’t necessarily feel like I’m full of great wisdom or extraordinary insights or humor but I love the outlet writing gives me and I’ve come to understand that writers write to be read. While I may not be a writer per se, not yet anyway, I will admit that sharing my words is satisfying.

Writing is simply a medium of expression. Like an art, it’s best when shared. I harbor a dream of completing a novel that I’m writing. Well, of completing one of the projects I’ve started over the years. I kept journals for many years and thoroughly enjoy the art of letter writing. I save them and I send them. An actual letter through the post is a treasure. I have letters from my dad, my grandmas, old boyfriends and friends. I save the beautiful cards my husband gives me, and a small scrap of paper where he wrote a sweet nothing to me before I traveled when we were dating. I have a box somewhere with notes passed between girlfriends and I during class in middle and high schools. Words to paper make me swell with joy.

Since my early twenties, I’ve had countless false starts at writing my debut novel. For a short time I toyed with the idea of a collection of short stories. They’re a medium that I greatly admire. The art of the short story is far more of a challenge than a full blown novel because to create a magical short story, it has to unfold so much more quickly but still have the impact of completion. I’ve started all sorts of different chapters of different stories, never to finish any of them. It’s only recently that the idea struck for a book idea that I might actually finish. That accomplishment would feel amazing, even if nothing were to come of it. Just the idea of completing a book…it’s enough.