I remember a conversation I had with my mom when I was a little girl.
I asked her what she thought I would be when I grew up. Her response was a librarian. And then she guessed my sister would marry Prince William and become a real princess.
I don’t recall what she guessed my brother and other sister would be. I just remembered I was a mere peasant.
Her guess was close – I am not a librarian but I do write for a living.
Whether or not I’m good at writing, I don’t know. I think I am. I think I’ve gotten better. Not, like, J.K. Rowling better but Julie Burton better.
Writing is a mind game.
It’s torture finding the right way to say something. I don’t use big words and I rarely write long posts. I’m not that smart. I want you to listen to what I have to say but getting you inside my head is hard.
Writing is the only place I can be confident.
I fall flat on my face skiing. I’m a horrific driver. My face trembles when I speak in front of a group. I fall silent when someone challenges me. I’m lanky and uncoordinated.
But writing –
I know I need to grab your attention in the beginning. I know I need to keep you reading or you’ll never come back. Your time cannot be wasted. I need to have a point to everything I write or I’ll lose you. You might believe what I write is wrong. That’s ok. At least you listened. You might believe what I write is funny. Or not. But that’s just me being me. I make jokes at funerals. It’s how I soothe myself.
I would much rather you read these words from the comfort of your home in your pajamas than you showing up at my front door with no warning. I’m most likely dancing in my kitchen with a towel on my head, only stopping to write several thoughts down. You’re not allowed to see that.
Once in awhile, I don’t believe it – a writer. I write on this blog. Doesn’t count, anyone can start a blog. I write in a journal. That really doesn’t count, anyone can write in a journal. I write for a Kansas City magazine. It’s not hard, anyone can do this.
This is not an “I’m quitting” post. No way am I quitting. I love the torture. My job is to let people hang out with my thoughts every day.
It’s just sometimes my mind wanders into what my life would be like as a peasant librarian, bowing to her Royal highness.