Ever since the age of twelve, I have kept a journal. At the time it was mostly filled with boy crazy nonsense but over time it became a way for me to express all the things I either couldn't or wouldn't express to friends and family. I have lived alone for the majority of my adult life, I've been single, and I have few close friends, so instead of coming home at the end of the day and discussing life with a significant other, I wrote in a journal as if speaking to a friend. And unlike many who journal, I have always written as if someone else will one day read the entries. No psychotic ranting about a co-worker, or elicit details about a date that I would be embarrassed for others to read. Mainly, I have written to contemplate, philosophize, ruminate, and try to solve problems. I have also written about big events in the world and the reactions of those events. As I said, I have always written as if the journals would one day be found, hundreds of years from now, and the information would let the reader know about the world right now and about my specific life.

Now, I am well aware that there is the very real possibility that nothing I write will be read by anyone. I mean this blog has seven followers (hello! Thank you for being here!), but that has never been a deterrent to writing - anything and everything. I once picked up an old notebook I kept in my nightstand, flipped to a random page, and read, "I was a stone cold killer. I killed my brother." This was the first time I thought that maybe it would be a good idea to let the reader know that I was describing a dream. I was not, in fact, a killer (not that my big brother hasn't tested my last nerve on many occasions).

In my 20s, I created my first ever bucket list and on it I listed that I wanted to publish a novel. So I just started writing random stories. At the time I was doing a lot of work on our family genealogy so I decided to use my ancestors timeline and create a fictional story of their lives. It was never a goal to have the book read by anyone - just that I would finish the story and I would publish it. I worked on it for years while working as a paramedic but it wasn't until over 15 years later that I finally decided to get the book published and mark that item off my bucket list. Sweet Twisted Pine was my first book and it was also an award finalist for western fiction so I surpassed my original goal. But the greatest joy I got from that book was when I saw it one day on the shelves of our local library while browsing the aisles.

In the time between writing that book and getting it published, I realized how much I enjoy writing. Now, I have all kinds of ideas in my head of possible stories, novels, memoirs, emergency management books, etc.

People sometimes ask how you start as a writer and I tell them that you just start writing - random notes, ideas, dreams, hopes for the future, frustrations. And once you begin you just let your mind take you away. Amazing stories emerge from just letting go and not worrying about whether your work is good or if it makes any sense on paper, or if anyone will ever read it. First drafts are always messy. It is in the process that the story becomes clear and I truly believe that everyone has a story to tell.

So get writing people (or in my case my seven followers)! Who knows what will emerge once you get started.