Dear Me

FEATURED in The Writing.Com Newsletter - Drama: Audience Determines Dramatic Effect - Editor's Picks, February 23, 2011

Dear me,

I’ll have to reduce him to a mere mortal if I want to succeed as a writer but I know I will. I am almost always struck by his words and by his perfect diction – a slow methodical, careful rhythm with no hurry and each syllable getting equal treatment: “You are too old, Christina, to write or to become a writer, even an author. You are wasting your time.”

Why do I allow these words every time he sees me in front of my laptop in the middle of the night or in the middle of a thunderstorm? Why do I accept his keen and cutting sense of judgment of another person – me, a person that cannot stop from creating and writing, no matter what, especially after I discovered WDC? Sometimes, I can go all the way to South America or to Antarctica, I can hear the reggae from the island bands or I can feel the soft wind blowing... her fair hair while my character perseveres and struggles in her story. Why doesn't he understand me?

When you come face to face with reality – age, Christina, you need to talk about it but not be belittled by the one you love. You need to be stroked, you need to be told that someone cares – even if only but one or two words said or any encouraging suggestion about your short stories on-line. I know that some are weird, strange and from the "dark side" but that's my style. I even attempted to write poetry and it looks… good. Yet, I only see an expressionless face and some smiles. I told him that I had won First and Second Prizes in WDC and that one of my short stories was a nominee for an award – among many others of course – but a nominee, for the love of the Virgin Mary. He grunted: “You’ll never win first prizes – you are not an American, you were born in the US but you lived most of your life in Brazil. At most, you are half American. Besides, there are far more younger and better writers out there than you – let it go. Do something else, Christina.”

What does nationality or style, creativity and imagination have to do with age, dreams and thoughts put into paper? I can’t do something… else. Stories pop up in the middle of the night or names and plots ring my mind and I suddenly find myself taking notes in little pieces of napkins in the secrecy of restrooms. He doesn't understand my sensitivity. He doesn't understand that thoughts can't be discarded - they have to be verbalized.

So, dear me, my 2011 goals are these and you listen to me: I will not stop writing – I will persevere. I will write and write, day or night and submit stories in contests. I know that there are many and I want to start with the Dear Me, The Dialogue 500 Words, Six Words, Tales of Terror, Tickle my Funny Bone, The Twisted Tales, The Cross-Genre Writing, Fantasy Keep and the Traditional Poetry Contests. It’s endless! I might even write entries for the Happily Ever After or the Writer's Cramp Contests. Not another thought will be ruined. I want the coziness of my mind and I want my words expressed in the keyboard. I want to write a masterpiece. Endless, endless possibilities. I am only 50 (look 40 and have the outlook of a 15 year old); age is just a number. Don’t you listen to him, dear me. Remember: written words aren’t old, they’re everlasting. Make yours a memory for the future. Your future.

So, what are you waiting for? You still have 339 days ahead of you; you have the whole world ahead of you. I am not slowing down and neither are you, dear me, write on!

From your best friend,

Christina



Words: 643