Why I Write

As I grow as a woman, as a person, I am always reflecting on how to understand and walk in my purpose. Reflecting is how this website; how my blog came to be. Through my constant reflection on what I want to do with my life and what feels right, I am led continuously back to writing.
Writing has been a part of me since I could remember. From sitting on Hilton Street learning to write my name, and what seemed like, hundreds of creative writing stories in Ms. Gilmore’s class at Mary E. Rodman Elementary School.

My true love for writing developed from my love of reading. Growing up I was a natural scholar and reader. But for the first part of my elementary school career, I didn’t enjoy it. I did well because that was the expectation of my mother and family. My older cousins got good grades in school, my mother, aunts, and grandmother worked with us at home, so I was expected to get good grades. And so, I did, but there was no intrinsic motivation.
Until I discovered that there was such a thing as reading for pleasure, changed my way of thinking altogether. I was in either third or fourth grade, and I discovered the mystery genre. I then looked forward to our class library visits and coming home from school to eat my snack and read my latest kid’s novel. I always made sure to read it within a week so that I could be ready for a new book during our library visits.

After so much reading I decided I could write those novels, too. Of course, my love for mystery was probably also sparked by watching Matlock and Perry Mason with my grandmother; reading books helped me visualize and enjoy and take in the details.

I began writing my own short stories and decided it was time for me to write my book. I told my mother my dreams and she, in turn, surprised me with a typewriter for my birthday. OOOHhh how I loved that typewriter. It was blue and white, and on it, I typed up my first “book.” It was a murder mystery. I never named it, but I was so proud of it.

But I stopped writing.

Until middle school. Throughout sixth and seventh grade I discovered my love for English class. We read books, analyzed them, wrote short stories and even learned how to write poetry, how could I not love it?

Then came eighth grade, semester one. Two of my favorite classes were Health and Creative Writing. Our Health teacher would give us writing assignments and prompts that I thoroughly enjoyed. But it was when our creative writing teacher gave us the news that I truly understood my love for writing. Our creative writing teacher was also our science teacher, and she was also pregnant. She told us she would be going on maternity leave before the semester was over and we would have a new teacher. When she returned during semester 2, we would take a science class. I was so bummed because she was a great teacher and helped me hone my writing skills. Our string of substitutes couldn’t handle behavior yet alone teach us, so my writing skills and dreams got put on hold.

Then in high school, I excelled in all English classes, and all my English teachers loved me. It was then I knew one day I would be an English teacher myself because I wanted to teach and inspire the next generation as Mr. Walker, Mr. Hulla, and Mrs. Philips did for me during my time at Edmondson Westside Sr. High School.

Through college writing was smooth; I even edited and helped people write their papers for $50 an assignment. Writing and editing was so second nature that my little business never interfered with my projects and tasks.

My love for reading continues to fuel me. As I read books, I think to myself; my writing is as good; my writing is impressive and needs to be published, and I’m proud to announce that in 2019 I will be a published author as I continue to run my blog and help others with their writing, editing, proofreading, and book development ideas.

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