I was asked, “When did you realize you were a writer?” I decided to make it a writing prompt. Here is my Origin Story as a writer.
A normal woman looks like any average mother but what you don’t know is, well, let me tell you from the beginning.
After years of waiting for her time, she did it. She went returned to college. Language always was her siren song, having spent hours reading and piddling with words in a quiet hidden place in her heart. The semesters passed, finally deciding to take the leap. She found herself perusing the CRW section of the spring courses, quickly she slammed it shut. Doubt crept like a spider over her hope. I can’t do this she whispered what luck that at that moment when she was so weak and unsure, a knight, a man she loved, happened to be there. He took her chin and lifted it high and told her at least, my love, try.
The classes gave her such delight and soon wisp of smoke began to rise a fire smoldered below the surface of her being. Still, she chose to keep her hope tight and hidden, only the one knew. She spent hours studying and reading looking for the method that would explain how to weave the words to be good enough. That day eluded her, she feared never would the words escape, and the pressure almost broke her heart.
Then one day, her knight, sat her down and said: “write, just write.” She sat her fingers on her keyboard and the words began to trickle then soon the trickle became a gush of words that formed the stories. She penned the words into plots and characters that arced from lost to found. Her stories from all the ones she told those little being she loved so dear and tales from before that had been fashioned in her core. She realized she was indeed a writer and it had always been, she just didn’t know, until, she did.