fiction, Uncategorized

Origins

My earliest memories as a writer were journals of misspelled words and imaginary characters. They were learning to grip a pencil and writing until my fingers bled. They were thumbing through the pages of books in my bedroom. Before I read a single book by myself I had penned my own creations.

Growing up, my parents taught me the value of trips to the bookstore and library. And once I was reading on my own I wanted to read EVERYTHING. I loved the characters, settings, and beautiful artwork on the covers.

I was the weird kid that spent hours sorting through my books in my bedroom. The room itself may be a wreck, but that bookshelf was always in order. Stacks upon stacks of picture books soon morphed into shelves of chapter books. And as much as I loved to read I was also inspired to produce my own stories.

If I watched a movie that I didn’t like I would rewrite the ending. If I loved a series I would create my own installment. My parents still have totes of my old notebooks in their basement. It was an obsession. I can remember them joking that I always needed a notebook, but it was truth. And they always provided for my hobby.

I owe a lot to them. I was blessed to have educators and intellectuals for parents. Both of them still read and encourage me in my own journey as a writer.

Now, as I inch closer to the end of my twenties I am still an avid reader. My oldest daughter is six and already reading chapter books. I’d like to think that I’ve fostered some of those same desires in her that my parents passed down to me. Just yesterday she sat with me and we each journaled about our day in our own notebooks.

I’ve only had one poem published in a traditional market, but my dream of becoming a published author is not dead. I’m continuing to pray and believe that one day a novel with my name on the cover will make it through the wolves. But for me it is all worth so much more than that. Even if I never see that dream realized I am still a writer.

I don’t write for anyone but myself.

I don’t do it for fame, money, or recognition.

I do it because there are stories within me waiting to be lived. If I don’t give them space to breathe then I cannot be satisfied.

I’m a busy mom, teacher, wife, and WRITER.

The Ameri Brit Mom 

I’m working my way through a DIY MFA program based on the book by Gabriela Periera. Throughout the course and book study I will be posting periodically in response to prompts. 

 

 

Faith, Uncategorized

Influence: Five Minute Friday

I’m joining the weekly link-up at Five Minute Friday today. Each week we respond to a common prompt and encourage one another as writers who share our words with the world. This week our prompt is Influence.

fmf-square-images-round-4-3

This year I’ve been working to refocus my writing goals. I’ve been influenced by bloggers I follow, authors I love, and programs like the DIY MFA. All of these things mixed with my passion for the written word have culminated in my plans for writing in 2019. I want to write boldly and with a confidence that is unshakable. After all, writing for me has never been about receiving anything, but rather it is about giving what is inside me life on the page (or screen.)

I have started working through the starter kit from DIY MFA which is a FREE program designed to provide subscribers with opportunities which mimic an MFA program. One quote that they sent me which has inspired me to focus my writing is…

“If there is a book you want to read but it hasn’t been written yet, then you must write it.” -Toni Morrison

I am praying that this year I will grow as a writer and be able to influence others in a positive way. I am praying that the book lurking in some corner of my mind will gain wings and soar. I am praying for a community of readers who will encourage me in this quest. Lastly, I am praying for God’s influence to be evident in every word, post, and book that is crafted by my hands. To Him be the glory!

The Ameri Brit Mom