Learning to read. Loving to read. Starting in the Elephant reading group in First Grade. Beginning to write. Having to write. Making stick letters and finding stories hidden among them. Playing with books that loved imaginary as much as I. Devouring and stalking an author till their well ran dry. Feeling lost and hungry for more. Launching a fresh hunt until autumn’s gift of school arrived. Discovering new books and new authors. Finding a little voice inside that longed to join the thread. Thinking about other voices that were never heard. Wondering what would happen if I tried. Succeeding, finding acceptance, encouragement and camaraderie. Working harder. Realizing what sustained and emboldened the little voice was Stirring the pot, cooking the broth all along and Mixing the ingredients. Doubting and even Fearing what might emerge from this strange brew. Needing to do it anyway; there is no other choice.
Discussion about this post
No posts
Feeling giddy after reading this, fabulous Tracy. Merry writing, Geraldine