There are days where I struggle with my writing. I want it to sound perfect to the ears, if read aloud. I want the words to flow upon the page with no need to edit. As a writer, I know that is not very realistic and that need for perfection gets in the way of the natural ebb and flow of writing that reaches out for the soul.
My love for writing started at a very early age. I would attempt to read the many books laying around the house. Words were gateways into magical realms. I couldn’t wait until I could write about the magical places I created.
Throughout my youth and well into adulthood, I wrote everyday. Sometimes, it was just a little scribble of poetry on the front of a notebook or a homemade book cover. Sometimes, it was multi-paged letters to friends and pen pals. I journaled daily for many, many years. During this time, I wrote with abandon. Then life began taking its toll on me, asking for a pieces of me, bit by bit. And, bit by bit, I am reclaiming my life and my joy of writing.
This post was written for today’s #JusJoJan prompt.
yvensong 