Ever since day one, my writing was an exaggeration of everything that rapidly passes through my mind, and when I first started writing, that meant millions of random, crazy ideas, all lacking in meaning. I used to talk at 100 miles an hour and when I got to writing I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was a mystery waiting to be unfolded, and writing became part me finding my own story – in finding my story today.
Learning how to write was my life in maturing; learning how to express myself with a complete honesty was learning how to be honest with myself and understanding the world around me; the passion in my writing to make a blank piece of paper with scribbles on it to a piece of paper that glowed and made you want to read it became the passion in my own life; organization, patience in perfection, and correct word choice matured as I accelerated in becoming a leader. My first story of writing was during my first adventure to life, me being the author to both.
I was a homesteader facing my first glimpse of the real world in fourth grade. My life itself went along with my writing at the time – scattered, not thought out, and looked like its tutor was still very inexperienced. I had not been challenged by the daily struggles of life, and had the chance to truly find who I was yet because of it. Life was still kind of a game, and so was my writing – there was no point to challenging or looking deeper into either of them. In the fifth grade, I pulled out of school, went back to homecomings, and started to try and find what I was passionate about – what I liked.
I started to enjoy sports, working out, pushup, and above all – the feeling of competition and completing a challenge. I liked figures and the building blocks to life all measured out and designed – bringing me to enjoy Architecture and then making me believe at the time that it was what I wanted to do for a living. Everything had to be very “real” to me and I had no imagination. This affected my ability to use imagination and look closer into the things around me. My brother, Andrew, was filled with an imagination that never seemed to stop, and over time, he slowly started to affect me and got me to start using my own imagination.
I was then able to apply hat in my writing to come up with broader ideas and make it more interesting. I was still very sheltered and no longer in an environment that challenged my writing skills – required me to challenge them – for another two years. Then, in the seventh grade, I started to really learn how to be passionate about the life around me, I started to question life, question my walk with God and why I had it, question why people acted certain ways, etc. I worked that whole year on trying to understand and relate to the others around me.
I started to look deeper into my life, and this taught me how to rite in a way that made the reader want to look deeper into my writing. I researched encyclopedias and looked at quotations. I gathered opinions and facts. I looked at dictionaries and used a thesaurus. I used all of it to create a reasoned argument of my own – making it look as fact instead of Just an opinion. I started to love the thesaurus in order to find that “perfect word” for a sentence. I became centered on how other books and essays brought in their readers and I followed their lead in order to improve my own writing.
I applied d the ideas to eve retying I Dunn to my own ideas in order make it unique and something I could be more passionate about. I also started to learn how to organize my ideas so I could stay focused on specific things in life – not only in order to better accomplish my goals but to understand what my main goals were. I was able to focus on the main point, and this transferred into my writing I learned how to organize my ideas so I could focus on a specific point in order not to distract the reader, and stay on subject. I began to only use what was necessary so there were no distractions or pointless sentences.
My writing of essays ND organized writing in general froze again during my eighth grade. However I learned to Journal and write poetry – causing me to look even deeper into life and finding Just that perfect wording and structure to describe things. I learned to conquer my fears and challenges through life by writing it down. My Journal and bible became my way of expression to relieve myself and find answers. Poetry made writing fun and gave me a different view on all writing. I realized passion can be expressed in a fun nature that invites Joy.
I learned that passion of something can be expressed through with all emotional feelings. Finally I was at a step where I could truly start to write and challenge myself. I had conquered the basic steps and it was time to conquer a few walls. In my freshman year I wrote better than I had ever in my life, and I found out more about myself than I almost ever had in my life. Writing became a way of finding myself, and growing up. My maturity in life showed in my maturity of writing and vice versa. It gave me the necessary steps to becoming the person I am today, and it gave me my love for writing.
