This week I wanted to share a heart-felt perspective on writing by a lovely fellow blogger, Crysta. I haven’t stopped thinking about this post since I read it in August. Writing is baring one’s soul, whether we intend to or not. It takes courage and strength and, like other things, it takes time, energy, and passion. And, most of the time, we don’t write for anyone but ourselves; it’s just a bonus when others do read and enjoy what we have written. “We don’t write because we can, we write because we must.” (Totally Crysta). Please read and enjoy ❤
I am in a funk. I know why, I dislike why, and still I am there. I wrote a book, a memoire. I finished it last week. I kept it all to myself and I sat there and stared at it for a few days. I walked away. I tried to ignore it. I tried to reason with myself before I pushed the delete button. I even tried to have a rational conversation with myself and tried to talk myself out of it… but the truth was evident. I had done what I set out to do… and now my need to do it was gone.
The thing is, I have meant to write it for many years. I had a purpose for writing it and I felt as if I actually NEEDED to write it. So I did. I wrote it out, every single word that I felt like…
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