Three months and 14 days into motherhood, I think I’ve gotten enough of a handle on things to begin this blog. I’ve missed writing. I really haven’t written anything creatively since my junior or senior year of college. It’s slow-going, this new start. I’m a little rusty and one-handed typing isn’t my specialty. You see, my little bundle of joy (and she is <new mom gush> the most beautiful, precious thing I’ve ever laid eyes on </new mom gush>) happens to be one of those continual feeders. Which means I spend close to half my time breastfeeding her. So, until I wean her or learn to balance her on my forearms while nursing, the great majority of my computer time will be spent with only one hand available. But that’s enough whining. Let’s get to the writing.
My focus during my creative writing studies was on creative non-fiction. I didn’t think I’d like it at first. My impression of non-fiction was the textbook and how-to section of my grade school library. What could possibly be interesting about non-fiction? Well, what I was missing was the creative part. It’s not just telling what happened in a real life event. It’s exploring real life from all angles and reflecting on it. If you’re new to the idea of creative non-fiction, I highly recommend looking into the works of Joan Didion. My writing professor assigned her autobiographical book The Year of Magical Thinking about her yearlong mourning the death of her husband John. What’s really beautiful about her writing is that she can take her personal grief and use it to explore universal grief. It’s one of the most insightful, heart-breaking books I’ve ever read.
Well, the lovely Layla Rose wishes to be walked now that she has finished eating. Between her and my muse, I’ll be lucky to write anything worth reading. I did warn you these thoughts would be scattered.comments powered by Disqus