Yesterday, I posted my 50th blog post here at Caffeinated Crafting Cripple. It made me a little bit proud, a little bit in wonder that I could think of that much crap to write, and mainly reflective on why I write, and certainly why I got back into writing.
There is something about writing, regardless of what you put down, that is cathartic and soothing just by itself. The process stimulates and calms the mind in equal measure, allowing you to lose yourself for hours in the magic that is language. I’ve always been intrigued by the way language works, and how words form in our brains and mouths. The roots of our language, and of other languages, captivate me, and there is nothing more magical – personally – than the beauty of reading. Writing is a natural follow on from the love of reading; I have been a book worm since I was small, and writing from not much older. I confess to writing on online fan fiction forums as a teen – thankfully now deleted, as I’m sure the teenage angst would mortify me now.
When I was in my mid teens, my parents upgraded the home computer, and gave me the old one. It sat on my desk in the corner of my bedroom and I loved that box as if it was a part of my soul. Most nights I would turn it on and ramble away. I kept a journal but the things that I really committed to page were the fantasy stories I would write. Sometimes works of my own creation, sometimes blends of other universes that I would unite into one, blended not so seamlessly but nevertheless, constructed with love.
I stopped writing for several years and missed it, without realizing what was actually missing from my life. When I decided to sit down and start to blog – and more than that, to stay with it – it was as if something had burst back to flame from embers, and the magic took hold again.
I know that I talk about writing as if it is something utterly wonderful whereas others might find it mundane, but the power of words, and of sharing your own whilst enjoying those of another, is something so special to me. When I took up crafting it was another way to express myself, but nothing quite cuts it like writing to me.
Here’s to the previous fifty, and on to the next.