When I was nine, a piece of my writing was submitted for a contest. If your writing won the contest, the story would be made into a play by a theater company and performed for the whole elementary school. I won! It was awesome and made me feel so cool.
Yesterday, on recommendation from a friend, I downloaded the first season of “GIRLS,” a witty comedy about Hannah’s life in Brooklyn written by Lena Dunham. It’s great because the writing has clear voice and honesty and someone decided it was good enough to make into a show.
Today, I was in a meeting where a friend asked me to reflect on myself as a writer: How I write, what I write, when I write. I shared my story about being 9. Then I came home, made a PB&J, sat down and watched two espisodes of “GIRLS.” Half way through the second episode I stopped and thought: I have a dream. I wanna be like Hannah, I want to be a writer. One whose experiences inspire other people. An author who has the discipline and time to make something worth-while. How do I do that? How can I be like Katie Wood Ray, David Sedaris, Lena Dunham, A.J. Jacobs, Madeline L’Engle, Jerry Spinelli, Bill Bryson, Gretchen Rubin, and Malcolm Gladwell? Where do I start?
Tomorrow, I will teach my kids that there will never be too many writers and actors and musicians and artists and creators in the world. And that there will never be too many stories to be told or waiting to be written or waiting to be heard. Tomorrow I will teach them that we are writers and the world is waiting for us, for our stories.