You Are What You Write

The other day my daughter and I were talking about an author we've both read. We're not naming any names. She's very famous and totally brilliant, but devastatingly egotistical. You read the first line of one of her books and you can sense she thinks she's the divine goddess of fiction.

Eh, maybe she is. If I was her, I'd probably feel that way too.

But it got me thinking. The scariest thing about writing, and especially letting other people read what you write, is that you can't write a paragraph without revealing exactly what you are. Unless you're hiding yourself on purpose. And if you do that, your writing will be flat and dead.

If your writing is alive, the life in it comes from you, and is colored by everything that you are. When I write I pour in everything I think, everything I know, everything I've learned or felt or done, plus all my daydreams and nightmares. Everything counts, nothing is wasted.

And readers can see exactly who I am.

So in order to write the kind of books I want to write, I've got to be the kind of me that can write those kind of books. I want to write fun adventure stories full of action, mystery, and wonder. So I try to be a fun and active person who is always pushing new horizons and learning new things. Yes, I actually do work at this. It would be so easy for me to hide out in my room with my computer all day and play with my imaginary friends, but then what kind of adventures would we have? I have to get out and climb trees, fly kites, audition for musicals (even when I have no business doing so), bug my neighbors to teach me new ukulele strums, try making my own cheese, build sand sculptures on the beach, listen to lots of Irish fiddle music, spend an hour out on my balcony watching the stars, and go "spot hunting" with my five-year-old.

"Come with me, spot hunter." I said in my deepest voice as I handed my youngest son a cleaning cloth. I twisted the nozzle of my cleaning spray into the ON position. "We're going on a spot hunt."

We crept down the hall, peering right and left.

"THERE'S ONE!" I shot a black hand print with a stream of foaming spray. "GET IT!"

Grinning from ear to ear, my little boy scrubbed that spot right off the wall.

"Oh, my gosh!" one of my daughter's friends stood at the screen door. "Your mom is so fun."

Score.

The other day, for the first time in many months, I went around and read all my friends' blogs. And I loved it, because your wonderful words are all so YOU! Thanks for blogging, everyone, because every sentence lets me see the beauty, wisdom, humor, and joy in your hearts.

So what do you do to be the person who writes your kind of book?