I awake with words in my head, like a cartoon character with a caption bubble. You know what I'm referring to. Sometimes the words are clear ... sometimes they echo just beyond my comprehension like the "blah blah blah blah blah" of a Peanuts adult or the squiggly marks associated with Woodstock. There's a story lurking on the edge of my consciousness like a rising storm ... a poem dancing with images like the drops from a summer rain ... a blog demanding a voice. An observation whispers on the wind. An idea spins like a spider weaving her web.
All my life, I've been writing. In elementary school I participated in the Young Author's Conference. I remember my first story, handwritten words in a small 5 x 7 3-ring binder and illustrated by a friend. I wrote it in 4th grade. There was another book in 5th and a mystery in 6th. I don't know where these early products of my imagination went. I don't need their tangible presence to prove that they "were."
Over a year ago, I launched Jenni's Corner, encouraged by a couple special friends who had been reading my words for a time and thought I might have something to say -- and the skill to articulate it with words on a screen. I want to take a moment to thank each of you who have taken time to read my ideas ... my thoughts. I appreciate it when you email me comments. I treasure compliments as well as different viewpoints. I'm honored that you read what I write and that there are debates and discussions inspired by my words.
See, I'm an English/Theatre major embedded with theatricality. So I have thoughts ... I like to explore and discuss and learn from others out there. I read what is shared with me. I pour through books and scripts and blogs, honoring ideas and differing viewpoints. To write is to breathe for me. Banter is the chocolate for my soul.
Do my thoughts and words have any value when they hit the "paper" screen? I don't know. The curser flashes and I type. My notebooks beckon each morning so I write in them, offering up my words and ideas like sacrifices on an Aztec pyramid. And though I give them life with blood, sweat and a super sharp pencil, only when someone reads them do they begin to breathe.
I write because I have words and ideas and images and observations. But, why do you read them? I like to think you take something from them. That through sharing words we connect and open our minds. In my necessary writers "arrogance" -- for who would have the courage to put their words out there and become vulnerable without it -- I feel I offer you something that you find valuable. At least, I hope so.
Writers write for the same reason runners run, painters paint, teenagers stay up late and sleep away the morning. We have to. It is our nature. We have a voice in our head that will not cease speaking until the words take form ... until a character's story is told ... until an observation or theory is articulated ...
So I'm grateful to you ... those who read my thoughts in "the Corner." I hope my little words have sparked delight ... have made you think a bit. I might just have a bigger story in me that needs to be told. Who knows what is next ... surprise is half the fun.
I wake up with words dancing in my mind and stories on the edge of my consciousness that need release. Read them kindly ... let them swirl in your mouth like a good wine or beer or whiskey or whatever beverage delights and tantalizes your senses. I want to stir your senses with my words ... my little words.
I write because I must ... I have words to say. Thank you for indulging them. Thank you for taking time to read my varied, little thoughts from "the Corner."