How I Found My Voice
It was totally unexpected. I was puttering around the house on a
hot summer day in Florida. Julie, my next door neighbor called
and asked me to have breakfast with her. Julie is a high school
honors teacher who doesn't have much extra time during the
school year to socialize. I said I would love to have breakfast
with her and we set up a date. After a few minutes of getting
acquainted, I realized that Julie had something more on her mind
than getting to know each other. She was on a mission. Julie had
just got back from "character camp." It seems our Florida
Governor, Jeb Bush had mandated that character education be
taught in the schools. Julie relayed to me that she was really
pumped up about this. (She had always tried to teach character
education to her pupils, though indirectly) She went on to say
that while sitting on the beach and watching the waves one day,
she knew she had to write a book on character education. That's
where I came in. "I want you to help me write this book. I am
very passionate about this," she explained. I told her that
although I was in a romance writer's club years ago, I couldn't
seem to put the words on the page. Something was stopping me but
I didn't know what it was. I told her that my dream was always
to be a writer, but guessed it was just a dream. The words just
wouldn't come. "Why do you think that I can write? You don't
know me that well," I asked. We had spoken casually when seeing
each other in the yard or getting mail, but that was all until
this moment. "I can't tell you why I know this. I just know that
you can write. Maybe it's fate or God. I don't know but I know
you can do this. I need a partner. There is another teacher who
has retired that I also want as a partner. The three of us
together can do this. I know we can." I heard myself saying I
would do it. I really wanted to write more than anything. I
didn't know how I would do it but Julie was so sure that I could
write. It was really quite amazing that she knew this. The next
week, Julie, Laura and I went out to lunch. Laura and I were
introduced to each other and l liked her quite unassuming manner
right away. It seemed to complement Julie's certainty and
aggressiveness. As a matter of fact, each one of our
personalities seemed to fit together like a jig saw puzzle. As
one, we could flow together and fill in each other's weak parts.
Laura agreed to be a third partner. The excitement snowballed as
we set up a time and date for our first meeting at my house. The
next week, prior to the meeting I found myself wondering why I
committed to this project. I made Zucchini pie while scolding
myself for saying yes. Julie, in the meantime, had called me
several times with ideas that were punctuated with enthusiasm
and zest. I have to at least try. I can't let her down. I
especially can't let anyone down who believes so strongly that I
can do this. We had our first meeting. The plan was that I would
do some short fiction stories that subtlety brought out issues
that teens deal with, such as peer pressure and bullying. Julie
would write a section about kindness to animals and Laura would
research and fill in discussion/written questions that would
relate to the story. I sat down at my computer and started
asking myself if my four daughters had gone through something
that might still ring true for today's teen. Then, I remembered
a sweet sixteen birthday party that had gone bad when we gave
our daughter, Cherise her party. Slowly, I began to type out the
story while changing names and places. Before I knew it, I had
completed the first short story that I named, "The Birthday
Party." The words just seemed to appear like magic on my page. I
couldn't type fast enough for my thoughts. How could I be doing
this? Why couldn't I do this years ago? I am 65 years old and
just discovering that I can write. What editor wants to accept
work from an old lady? Well, that's not for me to worry about
right now. I have to concentrate on fulfilling my obligation to
Julie. I shared "The Birthday Party" with Julie and Laura. They
were elated. They liked it. I was shocked and excited. I felt as
though I was not only walking on a cloud but that I never wanted
to come off that cloud. "Are you sure it is OK?" I posed Julie
this question. Her answer was sure and instant. "Fran, if two
English teachers tell you that you have talent, then you do!" I
floated to my computer and whipped out a few more short stories
that summer. The same thing happened....The words appeared on
the page and I wondered where they came from. Did these words
actually come from me?" Some of the short stories were based on
events that happened to my daughters when they were teens and
one story based on something that happened on the golf course
where my husband plays golf. I learned to add embellishments
that would punctuate the story line. Don't get me wrong. I have
plenty to learn about writing but I was doing it. I was having
the time of my life. "We need to get this done this summer,
"Julie urged. I managed to put out one story a week. Laura and
Julie were both doing their part and also editing my stories. We
wanted grammar, spelling, everything just perfect. I wrote and
rewrote over and over. Jim, my husband whispered in my ear not
to get discouraged. We did finish that summer, a year ago. We
were practically giddy as we saw our "baby" that was at last
born. The cover turned out beautiful and we were satisfied that
we had done our very best. For me, that was only the beginning.
I have to tear myself away from the computer to exercise and fix
dinner. I have become a recluse. (I am trying to balance my life
more because I can be a better writer that way.) I can't answer
the question as to why I could not write years ago. Perhaps it
was the topic of character education that spurred me on. After
rearing four daughters, I did have something to say about good
character. Perhaps it was just the timing. Or maybe there isn't
an authentic reason why. I think of it as a gift....a new
beginning....a magic time. Maybe it was just in God's perfect
timing. My fingers fly over the keys. I go from one project to
another. My mind races. I could write greeting cards. I know
what short story I am going to write next. I write my poetry
when the mood hits me. I am almost finished with my solo book. I
soak up writing tips like a sponge in the ocean. I am learning.
I am dreaming. I am actually fulfilling my dream. Thank you God.
Thank you for revealing my gift through my neighbor, Julie.
Thank you not only for allowing a u-turn but also for the extra
roads that curve around to joy and opportunity. I found my voice.
...By Francine Larson Visit my site at:
http://mysite.verizon.net/reso4qht
Contact information: Threeteacherpress@verizon.net