Monday, April 09, 2012

THE ROAD TO WRITING

Lately I've thought a lot about why I write. I guess that's because it becomes more and more difficult to do so. Yet when I think of other things I could be doing...or God forbid I take a day off to do something else, I know I won't stop.
I write because of all the things I want to say that haven't yet been said.
I write because there are people in my head who pinch me if I don't tell their stories.
I write because it's fulfilling to my soul.
I write because I'm not much good at anything else, though I've tried other things.
Here's a list of things I've tried to occupy spare time:
Leather Work, One can only make so many billfolds, key chain tags, and belts before running out of customers.
Teaching Piano: This one filled a lot of satisfying hours, but didn't challenge me much. After ten years, I had to quit. Writing had taken over my life.
Painting in Oils: After accumulating three or four dozen paintings I ran out of places to put them. A few sold and I managed to convince some people, mostly family, that they needed one cause I would one day be famous.
Quilting: After a disastrous and humorous afternoon at a quilting frame that resulted in my mother falling down laughing, I decided this definitely wasn't my calling.
Sewing: I enjoyed this and for years bought no clothes but hubby's work clothes. I was never the seamstress my mother was. She could look at something, cut out a pattern from her head and sew up a right nice outfit.
Giving Hubby a hard time: Acceptable during any phase of career changes.
Cooking: Baking is my favorite, but why cook what you can't eat?
Gardening: Had some good years with this venture, grew fantastic crops, canned and froze them.
Rabbit & Chicken Care: Oh, yes, we came to Arkansas in our late 30s and determined to raise what we would eat. Put a few cattle on a fenced acreage, bought some rabbits and chickens and settled down as back-to-the-landers. A wonderful time when I learned to butcher chickens, rabbits and even a hog (once was enough for that). What we learned was that shoes and eyeglasses and dentures don't grow on trees. One has to purchase "stuff" occasionally.
The office I write in today has gone through many phases. It once held a sewing machine and stacks of material. I made almost all our clothes. I knitted sweaters and learned to crochet (something else I'm not intended to do)
Then it held an old upright piano and an electronic piano during that phase.  I kept my saddle there too because the barn was across the road and open to one and all, including my lovely precocious, ornery Tennessee Walker Katy.
This has been a short tale of the road to writing, taken mostly because I stumbled onto it by accident, found I like it and here I remain.
Tell me why you write if you have the inclination.

5 comments:

Jennifer Fulford, Novelist said...

Stumbled onto it, too. Seems to fit, like you describe. Laughed several times at your other side ventures. Writing is much simpler, especially when it comes to hogs.

Ruth said...

I knew you were a pioneer woman. You can do it all. I'm grateful you "stumbled into writing" because it brought us together and now I can proudly say, "I am a writer," thanks to you.

Ruth said...

I knew you were a pioneer woman. You can do it all. I'm grateful you "stumbled into writing" because it brought us together and now I can proudly say, "I am a writer," thanks to you.

Patricia Gligor said...

Velda,
I have lots of other interests too but, for some inexplicable reason, nothing "holds a candle" to writing fiction!

Lori Ericson said...

You are absolutely a woman of many talents! A wonderful mentor as well, Velda.