Expressions #1: Where my Heart is…

When I was younger, from 5 – 11, I was never a big fan of reading or writing. I had a hatred of them both, never wanted to touch anything regarding them. Of course, as was predictable, I started school. I was homeschooled by my mother back in first grade on till sixth. She always told me that teaching me was like pulling teeth. Now that I’m the oldest of seven children I can relate to her and know how it feels. I honestly regret having been that way, but salvation came in the form of Lloyd Alexander’s “The Book of Three”, Book I in the Prydain Chronicles. I fell in love with that book the instant I had to read it for school. After that I was immersed in the world of reading and of writing. Having been inspired by that book series I, too, wanted to have a series of my own and started blindly writing out all the ideas that sprang to my mind. It started with fantasy and by the time I was 13 it had evolved into writing just about anything.

At the time I was 12 I was in love with books, always wanting to expand my shelf beyond the limits of my room and my home. If I could own the library I would.

However, when it came to reading nonfiction the sparks seemed to die out. I had no interest in the things that were and are and wanted olny the things that aren’t. I became enclosed in selfabsorbtion, wanting nothing but fiction and poetry. When I held a book in my hand I was far away from the turmoil of the world. When I held a book I could care less who was president or govenor. As long as I had my books I was happy and could cope with whatever was thrown at me. It was books that got me through the day… and it was books that made me groggy in the morning afterward. I hated waking up at seven in the morning to begin schoolwork, in highschool I was even on the verge of expulsion due to lack in progression, but I worked through it.

Now, having graduated, I’m at ease. My books sitting leasurely on the shelves stare out at me every night I lay in my bed, their spines promising escape from a hard day, showing me the worlds there are to explore and, in turn, the minds of another human being. They are the doorway into the person who declared that there worlds should have light. It was this fascination with the mind of the writer that caused me to want to write in the first place.

From there I took to writing my own pieces of literature, if that’s what some would call them. Honestly, they weren’t very good at all, but I’ve learned from my mistakes. For me to write was to have the power of God in one’s own mind. If I could create a world there I wanted to share it with others, wanted others to see what it was I created. My soul has been contained within the books I read and the things that I write. Perhaps if you read my posts you’ll glimpse at what is inside my mind and in me. I find that to see someone’s soul is a very special thing and can only be seen through reading and writing.

It is still that way for me today, only now I’ve read much more nonfiction than I have presently wished to admit. My computer is littered with so many different storylines that it constantly tells me that my virtual memory is too low. And so, I hope that there is someone out there who’ll read my blog. I don’t even know if there is anyone out there reading me right now. I can only hope. And if you are let me know you’re there.


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. bob
    May 26, 2010 @ 21:42:27

    This is very good – and quite interesting writing, especially for such a young person. Please continue with your wiriting. I believe you have talent and you surely have determination.



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