{becoming me}

this week I attended a writing group. First time ever. The group offers an assignment for each meeting.  This time it was a 500 word piece that was to end with the words...he turned and walked away through the rain.

I started writing when I was about 8, I experienced a lot of childhood illnesses & was often out of school for weeks at a time. I read everything I could access: books, Time Magazine (yes even at a young age – from age 7 my father would give me a shilling if I could guess who was on the cover each week: my guess was based on my being informed from reading newspapers etc. I grew up in New Zealand so TV was not part of my life until I was 10)

Having read everything in sight – my parents were avid readers so there were a lot of books in my childhood homes –  library visits were weekly, even if someone made choices for me. By 10 my mother had introduced me to biographies, and auto-biographies: historical figures, artists, writers, film stars, film makers, these last few because my father had commenced taking me to movies when I was 7.  I wanted to know about the people in front of the camera, then I wanted to know about the people behind, then I wanted to know about the process. Of course I wanted to know about who wrote the story in the 1st place, then I wanted to know how films were made and read about Producers, and editors  etc etc (Years later I studied film at University)

Eventually I read the Bible, and polished the family silver collection (such as it was). My mother thrust pen & paper into my hand and told me to write. It was like a light going on. Now, the word I would use to descibe what happened in me,  would be


One of the 1st things I wrote was a letter to Queen Elizabeth of Great Britain, to congratulate her on the birth of her newest son: Edward.  Some little time later my parents were greatly startled to find a letter from Buckingham Palace in the letter box, and it was addressed to me. I still have that letter.

Then I entered the world of poetry writing. About age 17 – a cataclysmic year in my life – I began a few attempts at writing my life story.

The poetry writing went on for years, and is still there.  A few years back I decided my season had arrived & I commenced serious writing; in the form of a novel.  A few trusted & yes, safe friends have been reading here and here along the way.

Last week I reached a watershed moment & took action. The result: I attended a writers group. I felt comfortable & accepted. It fitted.

I read my much thought about, well worked over, adjusted and edited version of the assignment.

Suffice to say I will be returning to the next scheduled meeting.


About Jane

Learning through living and writing the lessons
This entry was posted in australia, My writing, Writing Goals. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to {becoming me}

  1. Renee says:

    Oh Jane! No wonder you liked my blip about HRH being near to me! Fellow British Commonwealth friend, I salute you for this wonderful, incredibly kindred sharing. Loved it! Best of luck on all your future writing group classes, and on the complete success for getting all published or on the silver screen. Hugs!

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