These past couple of weeks I have immersed myself in an outrageous number of fictional novels, TV shows, and movies.
Why?
I’m so glad you asked!
Let’s go back a couple decades (I can’t believe I just said that…).
From my pre-teen to late-teen years I was an avid reader. I would grab a book, any book, and just sit and read until I reached the last page. Or, until my parents made me get up and do productive things instead.
I carried a large purse or backpack around all the time. Not because I was girly by any means, but because my books and my journals were ALWAYS with me.
Alongside my love of reading, I enjoyed putting my pen to paper as often as I could. Anytime someone needed a piece of paper or a pen, they knew to go to me. I was never without.
So let’s move up to the current year. I am the same. Unchanged. I read A LOT. I write A LOT.
Reading, for me, has always been enjoyable, entertaining, enlightening, and inspiring.
Writing, however, has always been a release. It’s motivating, self-encouraging, and a way to get all the things out of my head. All the things that race back and forth, ramming into the walls of my peace, chipping away at the structure within.
Not all thoughts are bad. Too many thoughts at once, however, can be overwhelming. And I am the textbook example of a “woman’s brain.” You know, the one they describe as an internet browser with too many tabs open?
Allow me to see that description level and raise it…
My mind is like a whole computer. Browsers are open, windows, tabs, etc. Apps are playing in the foreground and background simultaneously. The security app is constantly reminding me to check the kids and things around the house. The entertainment app is blaring with at least 3 genres of music at once, and anytime the mood changes EVERY channel changes with it! Browsers open for work and school, multiple windows and tabs for each one.
The antivirus hasn’t been run or upgraded in YEARS, and is flashing in the bottom, right corner every 3 hours or so. Its many attempts have been in vain so far. “Just click the ‘x’ in the corner to close the window till another day.”
Kind of like ignoring the check engine light on your car…
The calendar/appointment app self-destructs every few weeks or so… the poor thing.
Now, I could go on and on about how my overly anxious mind works (or doesn’t work), and likely make you dizzy with it all. I’ve chased one rabbit trail writing this post already, but I’m not editing it out. Haha!
We’ve covered reading and writing.
TV shows and movies:
Sometimes I turn them on to have background noise. That noise can often cancel out some of the scattered things swirling around in my mind when I need to concentrate on work, school, or something else.
And sometimes, I find shows and movies that are based on books.
And y’all… based on books? Not just a novel or non-fiction work, but a series of books?!
Sign. Me. Up.
I recall many of those, “How many have you watched?” lists on Facebook, marking lists of movies or TV shows, and you put a little symbol next to the ones you have seen. I would FILL those lists with symbols, every time.
I don’t really have a favorite genre of reading or writing, honestly. I glean a lot of knowledge and inspiration from non-fiction works, self-help, influential works, and more. But lately, I have leaned toward the fiction world again, much like I did as a teenager.
I can get lost in the descriptions of fictional worlds. The landscapes described with words these authors are gifted with using, that bring a scene to life inside the mind. Dialogue that can take you down emotional twists and turns, from laughing to gasping, and even crying, because you “Feel” every bit of the conversation. Describing emotions. My gosh…
As a teenager, I dreamed of becoming a published author. I wanted to open a world on paper that I brought to life with my words. Characters, conversation, the ups and downs of the hero and heroine of the story.
I wrote in my journals and notebooks for years. Visions of a story, outlines of possible books, and even a couple of drafted chapters here and there. Those notebooks and journals have traveled with me throughout my life and all the places I have moved since leaving the home where I was raised. Some have been lost, taken, ripped apart, and otherwise damaged. Not by me, but it happened none the less.
So, the other day I was pulling notebooks off the shelf for my kiddos to have something to draw on while I worked. One such notebook containing written works of two decades ago, fell out, open, on the floor at my feet.
I bent down, picked it up, and before standing straight again I paused.
The page that was open on the notebook in my hands was a list of descriptions. I had been practicing some creative writing skills with a dear friend of mine, and we would text back and forth a description of what we were looking at.
This one, however, ended up being a journaling for myself, and I couldn’t look away from the lines as the memories sucked all the air out of my core for just a moment.
“The reflection of the trees along the shore did a slow dance in the smoky glass of the water’s surface. The river is calm today. Tiny ripples hide well the dangerous current that races underneath. She’s moving fast today. A stick being carried by the current is here one second and gone the next. Underneath she is raging, but her surface gives no hint with the calm, smooth surface unbroken by waves or wind. I feel her today. I understand. I will leave for college away from home soon and I’m uncertain. The current inside me is strong, but it’s more like a churning rather than a flow. I am torn. I wanted to be a nurse. I wanted to live here and travel around the world. Did I settle? I don’t know. I also love music. And this school is going to give me music. It’s a school built for social people. Preachers, singers, teachers, evangelists… I’m not social. I’m terrified. Can I put on a face calm as the river and take this next step in my life? I don’t know. But I do know that wherever I go, any time I come home, the river will be here to greet me.”
So…
I carried that notebook to my room, sat on my bed, and turned several pages. I read short stories, poems, songs, more descriptive writing, journaling, reflections. Whew! It hit me hard.
So, what did I do? Ha! I went straight to my Kindle app, found books and started reading, went to Audible and started listening to books being read. Found Movies and TV shows based on books and watched/listened to them.
And here I have been for over a week, doing the same thing.
Remembering the creative thoughts I used to kindle into at least a little flame. Feeling the emotions connected to memories, dreams, visions, ideas, and goals I had set for myself.
Only now did I decide to open my computer and put to words what has been going on inside me these past many days.
Do I still dream of being a published author? YES!
Do I still want to write poems, music, songs, stories, and eventually books? YES!
Is this dream a possibility? YES!
Can I calm my mind enough to focus and budget my time wisely to achieve my dreams? This is where I struggle, and the rabbit trail we all took together at the beginning of this post happened. I want to. I really, REALLY do. But that computer mind of mine is on the verge of fritzing out.
Hopefully I will find the thing that sets me straight, very soon. I have a lot coming up in the very near future that will require a bit more of me than I have gathered in one compartment right now.
Until then, you will continue to get the random ramblings of a writer who loves to write. My blog posts aren’t consistently posted weekly or even monthly many times, but we will get there!
PS: if you have any book recommendations… well, you know what to do. 😊
All the love!
~B~
