The other day, my mom went to a job interview at my elementary school. The interview was conducted by my 1st grade teacher, who is now the principal. During the interview she asked my mom if I was still writing. This brought back memories of how much I loved to write when I was younger. I started writing in first grade and didn't stop until I started college. I wrote all types of stories in elementary school, all on my own time. I had quite the imagination, and I would come up with the strangest ideas for stories.
When I started middle school, my English classes became more structured, and I had to write according to the guidelines that the teachers gave us. Although my imagination was stifled slightly by the guidelines, I learned a lot, and some of my papers were really good. In seventh grade, my teacher liked one of my pieces so much that she included it in her book about writing.
In high school, I started to write more nonfiction type stuff, which stretched me further, but took me away from writing random stories. However, did write a few gems, including one about how a constellation came to be that I wrote one morning between Jazz Band (ended about 15-20 minutes before school) and First Period because I forgot about it. I did start working on stories again though. I found that Jazz band was an excellent time for that since I had a lot of down time.
The unfortunate part about all of my writing is that I started a million stories, but most of them I never finished. The only ones that I finished were the ones I was required to for school.
Once college started, my creative writing pretty much ceased. I was too busy studying and writing papers. I wrote three major research projects while in college, including conducting primary research and writing an honors thesis. By the end of college, I had perfected the art of minimizing wordiness and creating concise, tightly written papers.
I was complimented on my work, and my thesis may someday be published in a nursing journal, but I miss writing just for fun. Now life just seems too crazy to devote time to writing. I guess while I mostly have my blog for personal, and now family history, purposes, it can also create an outlet for my writing dreams. I enjoy reading well-written blogs, and I think my blog is okay, but I think it leans more towards the concise, technical writing that I mastered in college, rather than the narrative and descriptive writing I learned about in middle school. Plus, since it is about me, it isn't very imaginative because it is factual. I wish I could make my life sound much more fabulous than it is, but boring is much lower maintenance.
I'm also trying to incorporate writing into the list. I have a few ideas for stories right now, including a fantasy-like story and then vignettes reliving my college years. Plus, when something interesting happens at work, I write it down and save it on my computer. I'm not sure what I will do with it, but I can't post it on my blog because of HIPPA, so I need to put it somewhere. In fifty years, maybe it will be put into my book that inspires young nurses because I will be some really cool nurse that is a role model of an amazing nurse (Which, as a side note, I was told that I was an amazing nurse yesterday and that I was good at my job and should never quit today. That is always a good self-esteem booster). However, I don't spend a ton of time on these projects, so I don't know how much will get done on them, and I doubt I will ever get published since I don't want to put that much work into it, but it can be a nice stress relief for me, plus it helps me escape from reality.
Okay, I think I am done rambling. Every blog needs a ramble though every once in a while. It breaks the monotony of the report of our daily activities and such, and it feels good to just sit down and write this much. So I hope you enjoy, or you can wait for the report of our daily activities. Maybe in a few years when there are little Kevins and Megans, it won't be such a monotonous report. :)
