The Write Start to 2018

So my number ONE resolution for this year is to give my writer more freedom. She has been languishing so long that I might need to give her a solid kick in the direction of putting words to page, so feel free to drop encouragement.

Resolution number TWO is to make headway in the battle with my desire to create in other forms. From cards to jewelry to journals to quilts to stuffed creatures, I like to craft from paper and cloth until I have something new. If you are interested in purchasing one of my creations, please let me know. For instance, I created this choker necklace:

I should have more than two resolutions, but I feel like those two goals need the most attention in 2018. What goals do you have?

UPDATE: I found resolution number THREE. It was actually gently suggested to me by a beautiful and sweet friend. What is it? I need to work on being a better, mire-loving person (in the words of my friend, I need to look for ways to follow the example of Christ in my daily life). Hopefully, many people add a similar resolution to their list. I've heard far too much news of people destroying each other's lives instead of lifting each other up. We need to lift each other up. We need each other more than we know...

Write in a Forward Direction

A new year brings new goals, or, for most of us, a renewal of old goals and rebirth of old dreams. My writing has continued to suffer serious neglect over the past year, despite intentions to bring it back to the top of the list. I signed up for Camp National Novel Writing Month in July and wrote a four word title to my piece. Then life happened and the idea behind it has long since melted back into the folds of my brain. In November, I signed up for National Novel Writing Month with only a little more success. I eked out 10,000 words between morning sickness, caring for a sick toddler, Thanksgiving festivities, and the other excitement life threw at me. 

So with so many obstacles, why do I still pursue the allure of words strung together? One of my earliest memories is following my brother around, asking him to help me spell out words. I was about three and I wanted to communicate with those around me through the written word already. As I grew older, I learned to read. I loved making new friends inside the pages of books. I explored the pages of every tome that fell into my hands. I even borrowed reading textbooks from my older brothers. Then I discovered that I could write my own stories. I could send my toys to far off lands with my words. I could explore unknown kingdoms and make even more friends, as unique and interesting as I needed them to be. My early attempts amuse me when I unearth yellowed pages with my youthful scrawl, but some of my later efforts have brought smiles and laughs, so I shouldn’t give up. Should I? 

What lies ahead for my writing? I’ve resolved to make a real effort to balance my time better in the upcoming year. I want to spend time with my family and fulfill my callings at church, but I don’t want to lose the inherent abilities that I have, especially the writer inside who sometimes begs me to jot down lines of poetry or breathe life into a character who dances through my mind. So the upcoming year should see more posts for your reading pleasure and hopefully the completion of at least one of my half-started tales. Feel free to offer moral support, particularly if a piece touches your heart, makes you laugh, or stirs your imagination.