I guess I’ve always loved a good story – hearing them, laughing with the storyteller, and telling them (especially the funny ones). I’ve gone through long stretches of my life when I didn’t write much of anything – when I would struggle to finish a scene and like many writers, I have several abandoned projects.
I’ve aways viewed writing as more than just putting words on a page. It’s been my outlet, my way to connect with people, and a way to think through my problems. I’ve scribbled in journals throughout the hard times in my life – when I was in middle school and dealing with the suicide of a friend, when my grandmother died, and when my heart was broken (many times). And writing was there in the good times too – when I wanted to be silly and write jokes, babblings, pithy dialogue, or a steamy sex scene.
And now – I turn back to my old friend, the blank page. I put a pen in my hand and let it all come out. Strange thing is, this time around, I’m a little unsure of what to write….
What should I dwell on? What should I write?
or something more hopeful?
a new life.
Maybe a little of both will help the healing process, since we can’t ignore the past….but should always look to the future.
How about you? Do you keep a journal? Do you use writing as therapy?