Some of my ideas come to me while I'm checking out Facebook for the day. Some of my ideas come from conversations or experiences I've had. Some of my ideas come to me at the strangest times - washing the dishes, taking a shower.
The ideas just pop into my head when I least expect them. I don't even need to be thinking about what I want to write about.
I guess I'm lucky to be able to do this. I don't know where others get their ideas from. I do know that it doesn't happen as easily for some - maybe even most, but everyone has a talent.
When I was younger, this served me well in school. I always wanted to make sure I had great ideas when it came to getting good grades. Well, who doesn't? I suppose there might be some that aren't as worried about it, but I wanted to make sure I passed. There were some subjects that were not my strong point, so I needed to make up for them where I could.
Writing always seemed to come naturally, though not all of my writing was the best. I could always come up with some type of story that would having meaning to at least one other person than myself, even if it was only the pride it struck in my parents. My teachers may not have always agreed, but what is writing other than penning one's individual ideas and opinions to paper?
I could be convincing. I wrote a paper in high school for my History class one year - I think it was 10th grade. I wasn't crazy about the teacher and I didn't think she wasn't too fond of me, either. The class was a dilemma for me. I'm fascinated by certain aspects of history, but if I'm not interested it doesn't matter to me. Of course, in school we can't pick and choose what we are being taught - only what we want to learn.
I don't remember what the paper was about, just the fact that I didn't want to do it. I was the king of procrastination and put it off for as long as I could.
I did not turn in the report when it was due. I did not even try to do the assignment. I'm sure I came up with some excuse for my parents and the teacher. All of that is lost to the mists of time. What I do remember is how I passed the class and was able to move on to my Junior year.
Three months later. My teacher let me know in no uncertain terms that I would be able to pass if I turned in that report. Through some miracle, I came up with an idea and executed it over the course of a weekend to turn in the long-overdue paper. And got an A.
I still don't know how I pulled it off. I never made that mistake again in my educational career. I did have plenty of other creative ideas that helped me get through to graduation. A favorite of mine was a report for one of my Religion classes.
The subject was at least of interest to me, making it easier to remember. Personally, I think it was the best paper I ever wrote. It was a creative comparison of different religions. I don't think that was the nature of the assignment - I'm sure we had a broad spectrum to choose from.
I went to a Catholic high school, though I grew up in the Lutheran church. It gave me a look at the subtle differences between the two understandings of religion. I was also very fascinated with mythology. The idea struck that there were large similarities in all religions and mythos and I was off and running. I could have failed the assignment (don't worry, I didn't) and still have been proud of that assignment.
I am thankful that my writing creativity has not waned through the years. It has had its periods of dormancy, only to be revived at the slightest twitch of my subconscience. One such revival started with a dream.
One morning I awoke with a single line in my head, "Find the tree with the ground-lying limbs, there my love awaits thee." Through that day, a poem slowly formed around those twelve words.
I have often taken ideas like that; a simple word or phrase would pop into my head. If I didn't have something to write with nearby, too many of those ideas were lost.
I can't imagine ever writing a book. I wouldn't say it is completely out of the picture. I'm just better at writing poetry and anecdotes. I suppose a book is just a series of anecdotes put together in chronological order, but somehow the idea just doesn't click in my mind. I would probably just need the right combination.
My views are my own, my thoughts self-contrived. They should obviously mean something to me or else I wouldn't be sharing them. Is that enough to get you to read them? Do they mean something to you? Should they?
I can only hope that my stories will touch the heart of another. I can only imagine that I can make you think. Will I make you look into yourself or learn to understand those around you?
I've gotten several responses to various subjects I've covered already. My teacher friend found herself looking at herself a bit more closely. Some found a message within that spoke to something in their mind or soul. Others made their own understanding on the subject. Still others may have searched for some hidden meaning, only to find no answer pertaining to themselves.
I share with you my life. I give you my opinions. I have no purpose other than show you a part of myself. I write to entertain and to make you think. Should you take anything away from my words, let it have meaning to your heart and soul. Let it be a lesson to share with the world.
Take the ideas that have come so easily to me. Take the lessons I've learned from them. Take the stories I offer to you and become a better version of yourself.
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