I am a writer. Heart, body, and soul. Nearly every part of me, nearly every aspect of my personality, has something to do with writing.
I'm a control freak. I love inventing stories, dictating the way a character's life plays out, planning and imagining every minute detail. Which brings me to my next character trait.
I'm slightly OCD. Detail, detail, detail. Perfection! I am my own worst critic. I like having things JUST SO, and when things are out of order, my whole BRAIN gets out of order, and it's impossible to function. This works out well when building a story that actually flows well and makes sense.
I am a hopeless romantic. Ahh, that wonderfully dreadful writer's trait. If it weren't for the romanticism of the writer, we wouldn't have such beautiful stories as The Notebook, eh?
I love to read. I can spend hours with my nose stuck in a book reading the imaginings of another human being. It is endlessly fascinating.
I use big words. Come on now. This is self explanatory.
I feel better after I write. Reading over my last blog post, I was a little shocked at the honesty and disgusted at the wallowing self pity. I already felt better just getting it out of my system. Today, I wrote a guest post for a fellow blogger and Twitter friend, and I'm nearly floating on the clouds. I feel really, REALLY good about what I wrote.
I need to do better.
I stopped writing. It's hard to do with two kids, a husband, and a full time job. I am a growed up now. I have the big R word: Responsibilities.
But I also have a responsibility to myself. And that is to maintain my sanity so I can maintain all of the above mentioned responsibilities.
I need to write more. Nothing exorcises inner demons better than the written word.
I'm ready to get better. I'm ready to BE better.
Sanity... here we come!!