The day I knew I had to write my heart was in my throat, tears in my eyes, as I took refuge in my car.
I’m in over my head.
I want this.
After completing the first day of a course on writing autobiography, in the obscurity of underground parking and a racing heart, I was hit with fear and love. All at once, I knew there was more.
I fell in love with words a long time ago. Sprawled on my bed reading just one more page before I had to turn out the light. Hiding novels inside text books at school. Excited by every creative writing assignment. I felt abandoned each time a great book ended until I found another. Words comforted, brought revelation and moved me to higher ground.
Before the writing course I began a blog on a dare. Fancy Feet became an online corner to store my thoughts and musings on life until it became more. I had been telling my story to people on behalf of the BC Professional Fire Fighters burn fund, speaking to groups large and small about a 23 year old girl who was in a massive car crash on June 12, 1998. She lost her best friend, suffered burns to her body, the burns so severe her legs needed to be amputated. It was a story of survival and hope, and it began to find its way to my blog. My audience grew, people were interested.
Come join me at Erin Margolins’ blog: The Road to My Writer Roots where you can read the rest of my post. Erin, who is just so lovely, kind and talented (you’ll want to get to know her), invited me to write about writing, and I thoroughly enjoyed looking back on this writing journey and how much has happened since I began my blog 4 years ago. I am honored to be there with her today.