I want to write but I’ve so many ideas, its hard to get one out. I haven’t written for pleasure in a long time. When I was a kid, I wrote stories all the time. I even tried a small “novel” when I was in fifth grade: a heart-wrenching tale of the girl who moves to a new neighborhood, gets teased horribly then through her wit and charm, gets accepted. It filled the whole of a green and white composition book and was lavishly illustrated in No. 2 pencil.
My mother always told me I was no trouble as a child because I was able to amuse myself. I lived a lot in my head so I didn’t have time to be a nuisance.
A lot of my first stories were based on old Betty Cavanna books I got from the library at school or the Donna Parker my mother brought me from swap meets. “Donna Parker In Hollywood” was my favorite – so glamourous to my 10 year old brain! Its probably why I retain a fondness for perky vintage girls names to this day: my stories are still peopled with Trixies, Daisies, and Betty-Jeans.
Or they would be if I was writing any.
So the independence of Donna Parker got my dreams of Independence started. I always dreamed I’d go to London like Chrissie Hynde did – you know, drop out of college and bum my way there, with nothing but a notebook and my charm. Of course, Chrissie Hynde kind of fell into a sweet gig at the NME and there was that whole Supermegastardom With Awesome Band thing, too. I don’t know that my charm would have got me that far. I did get to London, though as a tourist and not the Sparkling New Thing I thought I’d be.
In spite of my dashed hopes of youth, I have maintained the idea that I can write. I started a LiveJournal in hopes that I’d write more. Alas, I was sucked into the Community and soon began posting song lyrics and quiz results, neglecting my original purpose in Bringing My Message.
I have the skills to bring it but as yet, I’ve not figured out what “it” is. More on this story as it develops.
Thank you…drive through.
