Still A Dreamer

I count myself very fortunate. Reading was an important and integral part of my life from when I was very young. Everyone in my family read – parents, grandparents and us kids – we always had a book, a magazine, a newspaper or all of the above. If we wanted something to do and the parents were busy, the answer was “Then go read your book,” and it was never a punishment.

In my pre-toddler years I was ensconced at one side of my Mom while she read to my older brother sitting on the other. I was soaking up those words like nobody’s business, and as a result I was reading … and writing … at a very early age. To this day, I am deeply grateful for this gift. It has served as a firm foundation for my never-ending love of reading, learning and writing.

When I was old enough to have a library card, and I believe that was at 5 years old and in kindergarten, I was part of the weekly trek to the town library, where my brother and I would each return with a stack of books. It was one of my greatest thrills to go to that library. And I remember it well because the original building was unlike most others in our little town. The Dixon Homestead Library was an old Dutch Colonial stone house with a gabled roof. (In doing a little research, I found that it was built between 1780 and 1790 by Derick Banta, a Revolutionary War soldier whose birth home on this same site was burned down by the Tories.) When I was a bit older, an adjoining addition for children was built and I remember being able to walk from one “house” to the other.

As a result of my love of books, I also loved to write and still do. Today, as I picked up Bird by Bird – Some Instructions on Writing and Life by Anne Lamott, and after finishing The Smoke Jumper last night, I couldn’t help but think about why we write and why we read.

I believe we read to learn about another’s experience … to be transported into another world in which we feel something that is meaningful to us, whether that is romance, terror, curiosity, amazement or intellectual enrichment of all kinds. We want to experience that which another knows and/or feels and can bring us through words. A good writer touches some part of us that says, Yes! This speaks to me.

Is this, then, why we write? If we are true to our hearts, I would have to say yes because we are at our best when we write what we know. Our writing has the most impact when our reader is drawn in to the world we create and wants to stay. I am aware that when I write, I want to make a difference to a young reader; whether he or she is 5 or 12 years old, it is my fondest hope that her life will be enriched in some way by my words. As I embark on a new writing project, I know I have a lot to think about and learn. I will have to revisit memories and feelings that will make a story come alive. But in this way, I hope to carry the torch of so many amazing authors that have inspired me, touched and enriched my life over the years.

But then … I also write because I simply love to write.