On the cusp

You know how I've been writing about being in Limbo for pretty much the last year? Well, I'm getting glimpses of possibilities in the Twin Cities that spark hope, fun, motivation, curiosity in me.

When I was in third grade, my homeroom teacher's name was Mr. Rice. Mr. Rice was known throughout the school for his fervid enthusiasm for the annual Indianapolis 500 car race. He religiously attended it in person each spring, and if you asked him about any year, he could rattle off the winner of the race, as well as the top three runners up. It was in his class, during the daily Silent Reading period, that I first despaired of becoming a writer. I LOVED books so much, and I really, really wanted to live with magic, and gnomes and fairies. I had dragons and drama in my head, and I wanted desperately to get all the exciting, moving details down on paper -- just like my heroes, the writers of my favorite books. But, I could never seem to write fast enough before the stories slipped away like the tail ends of vapor trails.

I thought harshly that I didn't have what it took to be an author. I thought to myself that I'd improve when I grew up. I've clung to that hope now for 30+ years.

I've sought validation by being paid to write. I spent a short-lived stint as a freelance stringer for a newswire service in Washington, D.C. For years, I wrote soul-sucking instructional and technical manuals. Next, I marked time as an unpaid, self-flagellating wannabe screenwriter. I've written business plans and marketing proposals, short film scripts and grant applications. The real kick in the pants is that I think I'm a good writer and a kickass editor -- I've got strong skills. But, ultimately, I've been stymied as a creative writer by not having anything to say.

But, tonight, I discovered this website out of the Twin Cities. I'm excited about signing up for a class or a workshop, just to get the juices flowing -- no worrying about results or goals or desired outcomes. Only committing to showing up for a few hours (or weeks, as the case may be) of writing-related activity and seeing what comes out of the pipe.

The third grader in me still just wants to excel at something I love so dearly. Hopefully, I might do some guided digging in a class or two and find that I finally have something to say.