Day 26: Dear writers

*Day 26 in the Dear Gratitude project is by yours truly again–only four more days of this project left!*

Dear writers,

You have shaped who I am, and you’ve shaped what I do.

When I began to read

When I began to read

Thank you, Beverly Cleary, Laura Ingalls Wilder, Ann M. Martin, E.B. White, Francine Pascal, and the rest of you who wrote the children’s literature I still love. I carried your creations with me everywhere. I crawled under my bed, books in hand, with a flashlight night after night. I fell asleep there, midway through a fascinating story that transported me to Wilbur’s pen or to Sweet Valley High or to the woods of Minnesota.

Because of you, I started writing my own stories, complete with intricate concrete descriptions of characters and settings. I stole phrases from you and learned to incorporate figures of speech and theme and symbols into my stories. My mom thought I was a genius; I’m sure my stories weren’t much better than any other fifth grader’s. But her encouragement led me to write more, and as my former creative writing professor, Andrea Hollander, wrote on my poems countless times: “Keep writing!”

So I did.

I kept reading, too, because I discovered more of you as I grew older, and reading your words helped me write my own. I developed my own taste for literature, and I pooh-poohed the notion that I ought to read classics for the sake of reading classics. I probably annoyed my college professors at the small, private, liberal arts school I attended, who touted the likes of Faulkner and Shakespeare incessantly. I had no real use for those guys. I knew what I liked, and I did my best to avoid wasting time reading things I didn’t like. I tried reading awful books like Wuthering Heights on multiple occasions–my mom always taught me to try something more than once before deciding to cross it off my list. Those same professors introduced me to some of you who are now my favorites–Cormac McCarthy, Sherwood Anderson, Chaucer, Nye, Kinnell, Wordsworth, and Steinbeck.

I stopped spending time with  all of you after graduation. I was sick of you, honestly. I needed a break.

I took one for several years. Then you, Tolkien, reminded me how wonderful it felt to curl up in a warm blanket on a cold night, mug of steaming cocoa in hand, and turn the musty pages of an old book to the tune of my cat’s contented purr. I was hooked again. I started reading all the books I’d bought in college but had only half-read due to time constraints. To my surprise, I liked some of them. I formed relationships with more of you–Welty and Joyce, to name a few. I dug into non-fiction, too, and my perceptions of the world were altered by you: John Eldredge, Wendell Berry, and Dan Allender.

Thanks to all of you–writers who moved me–I decided to go back to school to pursue my Master’s in English Language and Literature. And now I’m teaching students how to write, how to use words as tools, how to shape the world with language.

Thank you, writers. Thank you for teaching me, inspiring me, transporting me, entertaining me, and changing me.

I hope my words do the same for someone else someday.

28 days of love

Photo by Phoopla Photography in Dallas, Texas

Photo by Phoopla Photography in Dallas, Texas

Starting February 1st, I’m stoked to announce that almost 27 of my favorite people will be serving as guest writers for the blog. They were asked to submit posts related to love and gratitude and to run in any direction with that topic. I can’t wait to read the variety of posts as they come pouring in, and I’m really grateful to all the writers who’ve agreed to take a stab at it and join me in this endeavor.

Those of you who regularly read this blog know that I believe very strongly in focusing our minds, hearts, and eyes on what we have to be grateful for–to focus on the solutions, not the problems, and to choose gratitude over grumbling.

Love is a touchy subject for many people. Some people never feel that they’ve been loved at all, or they beat themselves up for mistakes they’ve made that have cost them relationships with people they loved. Or they have been victims of abuse by people who “loved” them.

I’m hoping that, by reading 28 different perspectives on love by people from varying walks of life, you’ll find something to relate to, some hope to hold onto, or inspiration to love others well. And ultimately, I hope that this month, you’ll come to believe that True Love has been there waiting for us all the time–we just have to open our hearts and our eyes.

So happy loving, folks!