Unusual Bravery

Today has been much better than yesterday. I spent an hour before work looking at magazines and such to possibly send one of my stories to in the very near future and after work (while I waited for my Hunny to finish his shift) I spent about three or four hours writing in my note books and looking through books about writing. I did this more because the laptop died than out of actual desire but in the end I was more satisfied than if I had spent my time on the net. I wrote a couple of prompts that I might share momentarily and did a writing exercise or two that proved to be unusually fruitful and fun for me. :)

People are used to seeing me walk through the kitchen with a book or three in hand or the laptop case by now. They’re used to seeing me with my huge headphones on just typing away, though usually sitting in a position or place where they couldn’t see what it was I was writing if they tried. They are used to asking me what I’m reading and seeing some of the latest fantasy or vampire novel, but lately-

I’ve gotten brave enough to start bringing my books about writing to work. I had never done this much before because it tends to spawn questions. Lately though, I’ve been pretty brave. A lady at work asked me what I was reading about a week or so ago and I held up "The Writer’s Book of Days" and explained that it was ‘about’ writing as I often have to say that and then I made some comment about me being a little odd because I’m so used to people finding it to be that way. It’s not there are a lot of writer’s up this way let alone significantly literate people in my area.

She told me at once that it wasn’t strange if that’s what I was into and then asked me if I liked to write. I told her I did. We talked for a little longer and then I surprised myself by offering her the link to my blog in case she ever wanted to check out some of my writing. That was the first time this brave new side possessed me and I find myself giving it more control every day.

I’ve started to bring in more tools of the trade every day, letting every one know the work I truly have a heart to do. When I work at home I lay out all my note books within easy reach, a stack of pens, music, books on grammar though they are seldom cracked open, writing prompts, exercises, and advice. I’ve started to lug all this around with me in one form or another. Most importantly I bring my writer’s attitude. The way I carry myself and let myself fall into my own world despite what is going on around me.

Sometimes I feel going into this mode with others around me leaves me vulnerable. Chances are I won’t notice if someone finds a way to look over my shoulder or if someone questions me about something, anything, I’m liable to answer in an overly truthful manner. I’ve always been more honest during my writing than any other time. It could be anything from what I’m working on to my opinion about something and I have a a tendency to be REALLY blunt- well, maybe that’s not the right word. I don’t sidestep what I mean to say. I don’t talk around things while I’m writing like I might to spare the feelings of one any other time. Given, I’m usually pretty honest but most the rest of the time I can see myself falling into habits that all people share such as saying what I don’t mean. If I dislike something I might say it’s alright if I know it will hurt the person. No such social filter exists during my ‘mode’.

Still- despite how open it might leave me and how many questions it might provoke I’m very pleased with this other side of me that’s coming out. I’m not sure if I have something consciously to do with this. To be honest it’s doubtful but whatever inside of me has decided it doesn’t care what people ask and the fact that I’ll  answer honestly seems to know what it’s doing. Let’s hope it sticks around.

Side note: I’ve noticed this facet appearing in some of my usually meeker characters as well as if we are maturing and developing together. Strange.

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