Why I Love To Write.

I can’t not remember when I didn’t want to be on the stage. I know you are raising your brows (unless you are Botoxed) and thinking what does that have to do with writing? Well, sometimes I think some of us are lucky to be born with the inner knowledge of what we want to be when we grow up. My brother knew he wanted to be an engineer. He is. I always wanted to be in the movies. I was. But it is kind of interesting that once in awhile these ‘from-the womb’ desires wind up to be not the most interesting or the most fulfilling path we should follow. And some of us are accidentally lucky enough to find it before we leave this planet.

In my thirties I was thrown some difficult life circumstances that kind of kicked me in the behind. I wallowed in “why me” for a long time that quite honestly blocked my being able to even consider making lemonade out of the sour lemons I thought had been dealt. Poor me.

Fortunately or unfortunately, however you want to look at it, it wasn’t until years later when I finally started putting my feelings down on paper that I was able to find my life again. A yet untapped and locked energy in my life opened as I started putting events, thoughts, observations…..basically regurgitating my life as I had lived it during those difficult times from my head onto the paper in front of me. The joy I experienced in recreating with my computer keys a real life, my life in retrospect, was such an awesome discovery for me.

Since that first epiphany I have gratefully evolved into being able to put my head (which honestly is where I usually am) out there for all to see. I have learned to be comfortable with my words and know each has their own style and no to two of us are alike. That is okay. We can each appreciate our parallel paths. For me, I write from my own sandrashart. I love to write, I AM a writer.