Life Story Writing

Teaching Life Story Writing and Musings On My Life ~

What If I Am Not A Good Writer?

I think its natural to think we are not good enough at something, especially when it comes to writing.  Chances are whatever you write will be read by others, unless you have a journal under lock and key (and what will happen to that if you suddenly depart this world?!)  You see my point.  Writing puts us on display.  People will look at us and judge us by our writing.  They may even judge our choices and how we have lived by our writing, especially if you are writing about your life.  So what now?  Give up?  Think this is a bad idea?  Think maybe this is not worth it? Na….

When I was a little girl in elementary school I was terrified someone would see my writing.  I would write with my long hair draped like a cape around my face and page.  I would struggle with the writing assignment trying to create the story or find the words.  Then the moment of truth.  I would stand in line (actually a queue) awaiting the teacher’s all discerning eye on my work, my writing tightly clenched to my body.  With my work under the scaring glance of my teacher I suddenly felt like I had been stripped naked in public.  Why?  Because usually I would return to my desk with red ink mark like pock marks on my writing labors and a heart sinking 6/10 for a grade.

Its really no wonder English Language was never my favorite subject.  English Literature however was quite another question.  There was no doubt from the moment I could read independently, I loved books.  I revelled in the world of words.

My writing on the other hand showed momentary glimpses of brilliance and excitement, at least to me, if not to all my teachers.  Still it slept inside, not being coaxed or encouraged to dare show its face in the teacher toxic world I inhabited.

Time warped.  Journals piled up in a box.  Marriage and five children came to my life.  I did not give a second thought to writing except to hurriedly scribble some journal entry.

Then, divorced at age 37, I found myself back at school, in a college English class.  It was there I discovered the joy of writing for the first time.  There at that frantic crossroads of my life I would occasionally wow myself with something I had written.  This gave me hope.

Deep down inside I knew I needed to write.  I needed to write something….what?  An essay, a life story, a book?  I didn’t know but kept on writing for school.  I am still not sure but I just keep writing.  Now I write about my life.  For myself? Sure.  For my family?  Definitely. For others? Yes, well I’m here aren’t I?! Is it awkward?  Some days.  Is it difficult?  At times.  Am I happy with my writing?  Its a work in progress.  But if I never write, one thing is for sure, I will NEVER get any better at this!


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