Well, you found me. I knew this could happen when I put this out here in the world.
I am primarily a wife, mother (of three), teacher, and procrastinator, but I have decided to add author to that list. That is a decision I haven’t come to lightly.
It started as a whisper in the back of my mind when my eighth grade English teacher started giving us freedom in our writing. “Write a story about anything,” she said. It just had to be a certain length, contain certain literary elements, but the content was for us to choose. (Shout out to Mrs. Hansen, part of my origin story as a teacher and a writer.)
That’s when I realized I had things to say.
For the longest time, they were just for me. Starting in college, I occasionally felt the urge to write something completely and to try to get it published. (I did get a poem published in a small anthology from the University, but I haven’t been able to find it, so it feels like I imagined it.)
The desire to write has been active for years, the willingness to put anything in print for the world to see is fairly new.
To me starting my writing journey really is like the dawn of a new day. I am not a risk-taker by nature. I like things that are a bit more guaranteed. I go to work, I get paid. I like things with a contract, a due date, clear guidelines. I like to know what is expected of me so I can make sure I follow the rules.
However, there is another part of me that wants more. I don’t consider myself very creative, but I also have characters and stories living in my mind. Some of them come and go, and some of them plant themselves for good. I can’t seem to get rid of them until I let them out in their own story.
I think, maybe, the stories in my head are worth reading. I don’t know how many there are or how long it will take them to get out, but I would like to try.
The joys, struggles, and tragedies of my own life and the lives of others mean something, and they can help others understand and appreciate their own and others’. I know this to be true because I also am a reader. Sometimes, I read something and it explains something I feel better than I can, helps me understand something I couldn’t comprehend, or sheds light on an event or issue I was ignorant of. I LOVE that. I can feel it opening my heart and my mind when it happens. Many books have meant something to me.
I can only hope my words may mean something to someone else.
Dawn Ludlow 