That was the title of my first poem. I was around 10 when I wrote it, and one of the stanzas went something like this:
Home is not just a place where you eat and sleep
Home is not just a place built to make a place look neat
Home is where the heart is.
Okay, maybe not, but it was my first tentative step into the world of writing.
I remember riding my bike in the driveway, circle after circle, rhyme after rhyme, and stanza after stanza.
I remember the amazing feeling I had when I was finished.
I had written something.
I had written a poem.
I remember my second poem.
I remember poems about flowers and waves and horses. I remember bad poems and good poems. I remember the book where I use to write them all in cursive.
Around the same age, I wrote a story about a mermaid, later “published” by my uncle using his computer.
And now, over 10 years later, there’s more stories, different stories.
There’re stories about love and loss, poems about betrayal and heartache. There’re words that tell stories about ghosts and those that tell character’s secrets.
I guess what I’m trying to say is:
It started with a poem.
One badly written poem by a 10-year-old girl.
Who would’ve thought that those few stanzas would lead to this? To me? To this blog? I sure wouldn’t have.
So what did I learn from all of this?
- Bad writing can (and will) turn into good writing, if you keep at it.
- It’s an incredible feel to hold something you wrote tangibly in your hand. I still remember holding that mermaid story for the first time. Print things out. It’s worth it.
- Even the young writer in me was dealing with very large themes. The mermaid story had loss and love as did many of my poems around that same time. Chances are, even if your themes don’t feel very large, they are.
- Write. Write. Write.
That 10-year-old girl knew a truth that would take this 23-year-old years to learn: Home truly is where the heart is.
Writing is my home.
See you soon,