I didn't know people wrote like this. Ok, I did, but I didn't realise it was something people read...
Alright, that's not true either.
I didn't think it was something I could do.
The thing is when I heard Laura Jane Williams speak at the Blogtacular conference last weekend something clicked. It was a soft click during the workshop; after all I was busy taking part in the writing exercises, listening to her words.
But on the train home. Something happened. Like the point controller pulling the lever and the engine switching tracks.
I thought at first it was deflation. Disappointment. Because when I get emotional, when my head is filled with tears that refuse to come, that's a natural reason, right? It could, I mused, even have been the start of a vulnerability hangover as Lisa Congdon in the keynote speech talked about. And I'd talked to lots of strangers all day. Put myself out there. For someone whose day usually involves talking to just chickens, ducks and the dog this was a big ask.
But that wasn't it.
Laura said that not everyone would agree with what she had to say on the subject of writing. And she's right. She thinks blogging is dead. I don't, but I do think it is evolving.
But everything else she uttered? I was nodding my head in agreement throughout. If she'd seen me out of the corner of her eye she'd have thought I was a nodding dog. The loon from that advert.
Of course, when I get home I find her blog. Superlatively Rude it's called. I'm binge reading it. I order her book, Becoming. She's from Derby, like me, you know. I'll gloss over the fact she's a decade younger than me.
I now know exactly what I want to write next. Laura's workshop showed me that. And even though I shouldn't need it, she gave me permission. So I gave myself permission.
The un-shed tears? Turns out they were because of inspiration and ambition.
Perhaps this is my becoming.