Why do I write?

Well, thanks for asking!

(I wish my hands looked this good)

Tim O’Brien once said, “But this too is true: stories can save us.” Stories can raise us from the metaphorical dead, giving us new life and purpose. Amidst the drudgery and suffering that can be everyday life, stories provide us with an escape, a place to go where we can be other than we are, and where we can walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. I have found this to be true in my own life. In fact, stories have so impacted me, that I have a desire to use my experiences and talents to share the benefits of stories with other people. If I can use myself in some way to serve that which has influenced me so greatly, I will feel that I have been truly successful.

Childhood

My love for the written word started at a very young age. In fact, it began almost as soon as I was born. I have a sister who is three years older than me, and as soon as I was born, she decided that we were going to be best friends. However, she soon discovered that I would be unable to talk and play with her as she hoped, at least not until I was able to form coherent words. Therefore, she determined to work with me until I would be able to talk to her and hold conversations with her. Every night before she went to bed, she would sit and read me books. To her, it did not matter that I would not be able to understand the words she was saying. She determined to read me until I could speak with her. Therefore, from the beginning of my life, I was inundated with words which entered my brain and gave me ideas that I did not understand yet. Thanks to my sister’s ministrations, I soon began to speak, far ahead of the time that babies normally learn words. Furthermore, a few years later, I soon learned to read because of all the effort my sister put forth on my behalf. Through my sister’s desire to have a playmate, I gained a love for words and reading before the time that I normally would have otherwise. My sister helped me gain a passion that would impact me throughout the rest of my life.

Elementary School

In elementary school, my love for the written word manifested itself in me winning countless reading contests to see how many books that students could read. For career day, I dressed up as an author, carrying a notepad and sticking a pencil behind my ear. I soon became known as “the girl who reads,” almost derisively set apart from my school mates by the fact that I was obsessed with reading, while they were not. However, I did not mind—I was devoted solely to the fictional worlds in which I spent so much time.

This passion was exacerbated by my fourth-grade teacher, Mr. Ballard. Mr. Ballard also shared my love for reading, and he sought to help all his students find a book that they could love for themselves. Every day, he would read to the class aloud from various books, assuming the voices of all the characters in the book. I remember him reading The Hobbit to us, delighting us with his Gollum impressions. Another favorite of his was A Series of Unfortunate Events, and he would regale us weekly with tales of Violet, Klaus, and Sunny. Mr. Ballard made books come alive for us, and I remember coming to class each day eager to hear what the characters would do next. I thank Mr. Ballard for igniting my passion for reading, and I truly think that his work is part of the reason that I want to pursue English in my future career.

Young Adulthood

My love for reading continued through my high school years and came to a head during the summer after my first semester of college. I had begun attending my dream college in 2014, but due to problems with mental illness, I had to return home after one semester of college. I was devastated that I had been forced to drop out of my dream school and that mental illness seemed to be taking over my life. I took the next semester off and tried to figure out what direction my life should take now that all my plans had been shattered. It was an extremely dark time for me, and I often contemplated ending it all. However, I soon discovered the Harry Potter series. I had never read the books before, and they opened a whole new world to me. I found myself clinging to Harry, feeling the same things he was feeling. I clung to the fact that if everything would come out all right for Harry, then maybe it could come out all right for me too. In other words, written word brought me back from the brink of despair, and I owe my life to the story of Harry Potter.

Tim O’Brien once said, “But this too is true: stories can save us.”

That is the reason that I have chosen to dedicate my life to stories; through thick and thin, stories have been my constant companions, and I owe them more than words can say. So, on this blog, I resolve to share my own story in the hopes that maybe others can relate to it in some small way, and I share movies (which are just visual stories), into which people can escape at a moment's notice. I have a lot to say, and I think this blog will provide me with one avenue to say it. Stories have truly saved me, and I hope that in some small way I can give back what the written word has given me.