Where it Started

I remember sitting at a small round table, just enough room to fit a family of four around, it was a tan color. It was bright and noisy, and the table was mine tonight, with piles of markers and papers everywhere. My parents were in the kitchen, and although I do not remember where my sister was, I always imagine her sitting across from. I was young yet, maybe six, it couldn’t have been more than that with both my parents in the house.

I wrote my first story in one of those triple lined books that kids get taught how to write letters in, a few lines about a cat playing football. While my style and language have expanded quite a bit since then, that one memory is still clear in my mind to this day. I do wish I could remember the words to that story, but the memory will have to suffice.

I have tried many things in life searching for a purpose, forming a dream in my head about what I am supposed to do. Every time it comes back down to sitting here doing this, writing has been the only thing I have done consistently aside from eating and sleeping for as long as I can remember. I wanted to be rich and famous when I was young, as most do, but now I truly just enjoy doing this, sharpening my craft to make pieces people enjoy or impact them in some way.

It took me 25 years to share my first story online, not even one I enjoyed writing all that much on account it was for a challenge and I had no idea how to approach it. I had little confidence at this point, having shared some of my work with a good friend over the years, he always enjoyed it and I knew I could trust him to tell me how shitty it was if that were the case. As a writer I think it’s very important to have a friend like that, but even more important to muster the courage to put yourself out there.

Most of my top stories are just ideas I channeled into the keyboard one night when I wasn’t sure what to write about and posted for the hell of it, never expecting anything. I’ve written enough others I have spent hours going through and trying to make perfect that nobody looked at. It took me a while to figure out what was happening with that, and I’ve found its such a fantastic lesson when doing something new. Sometimes you’re going to work hard and accomplish nothing, but that really isn’t nothing, and sometimes you’re going to casually go through the motions and be handed a win.

I would have liked to begin sharing years ago looking back at everything, and I think there’s a good reason I didn’t. Years ago, I was in a darker place, I wouldn’t have accepted the failure as well, and honestly probably would not have cared about the wins. I think being a bit older now, better off but no less weathered and beat up, has put me in a place to write the kind of things I want to write and be able to pull from some bad places and real emotions.

Sometimes I like to write something like this to explain to myself why I am where I am in life, it helps one find the silver lining and ground themselves. Hopefully someone finds this helpful as well, nobody has ever told me my work was absolute garbage, even a bad review is more constructive criticism than anything and we can all use that. Now that I have that out of my head, let us all keep the art alive, and thank you all for your kind words.