Bio: Lisa Turner was born and raised and is currently living in Star Valley, Wyoming. She married her best friend and (sorry ladies) the best man in the world and together they have five children. Writing was an early love but she didn’t truly embraced it until last year. Since then it has become her one and only hobby--having none up until that point. She loves most any kind of fiction, especially if it has a strong romantic element weaving through. You can visit her blog “Lisa’s World” for more thoughtful insight, crazy banter, and psychotic nonsense.
Elizabeth asked me to share a little bit about my writing journey. Truthfully, it began as a child, but I didn’t embrace it until just over a year ago. I always loved writing, but in my youth experiences motivated me to abandon it. Now that I have rediscovered this love, I have tried to find ways to improve my skills. For this reason I decided to take writing classes. During my very first class, last September, I was taught one of the most important lessons I have yet to learn and I would like to share it with you.
I’ll never forget Carol. The night of my first creative writing class she sat crouched over her notebook, her face never raising to make eye contact with anyone.
There were fifteen new faces in the room that night. But it was hers that stood out. Her face sagged with more than just wrinkles. It sagged with a weight I bore myself. Only my face was young enough to disguise it.
She read her piece last. After everyone else had worked up the courage to share their writing with this group of complete strangers, the teacher had to coax her into the spotlight.
And when she read, I knew. I knew that I was looking at myself in 30 years.
How did I know? Because that night we had been asked to answer this question: Why do I write? And her answer echoed my own.
I didn’t like it. I didn’t like what I saw.
I’m not talking about appearances, it went deeper than that. I’m talking about a woman who had withered away with life. She had lived in her head and become a creature that cowered and shook in the presence of others. Especially, when she was forced to stand out.
I didn’t want to be her. That was why I was there. To pursue the life I wanted. A life that scared me and at the same time thrilled me. And sitting right before me was a glimpse of who I could be if I chose to succumb to the fear that seemed to hound me whispering discouragement and admonishing me to give up.
There was no going back that night. Carol proved that to me.
Sadly, she never returned to class. She shared her heart with us. Then she went back into hiding.
I think about her a lot. And it makes me sad. What happened? When the moment came to break free from the confinement of her self-consciousness, why didn’t she take it?
Life is scary. Feeling vulnerable is hard, sometimes overwhelming. But in reality, the only person that truly has the power to make is feel vulnerable is ourself. I’ve been learning that. I just pray Carol can learn it too.
What a touching story, Lisa. I know how you feel, I don't think I could hide myself and live without sharing what I've been blessed with. Thank you for this touching post. Lisa is such a wonderful lady, go visit her blog and become a follower!