I also did what I always do when this writing bug kicks in full force...I re-read stuff I wrote long ago. I went even further back today than usual, however. I pulled a file of clips from high school. Yep. High School. And in the midst of the photocopies and yellowed newspaper clippings, I found a handful of letters--some I wrote and never mailed and a few to me from my best friend in high school and my first cousin. All were from about the same time period--probably within the same week. I referred to two major events in my life in all of the letters I wrote. One was a significant family event (I might post more details about this after I talk to my sister and have her permission). The other...my boyfriend dumped me. I was so sad. I wrote the same thing over and over to several friends:
Why? I didn't even like him that much. Well, I liked him, but I didn't "love" him. So why does it hurt so much? Etc., etc.
The first couple of times I read my young words, it was interesting. I reminisced. I laughed at my teenage self, and even toyed with the idea of sharing the letters with my 16 year old daughter. But by the third or fourth rendition of the exact same words (or at least very nearly), I was bored.
The same thing has happened to me as I've reviewed my adult journals now and then. I get very frustrated with myself for saying the same things over and over, for making the same mistakes over and over.
I hinted at my fears of writing online in my first blog. I don't want to put my "dribble" out there for the world to see. And here I am, doing it anyway. But on the flip side of the boredom that repetition threatens, practice makes perfect, right?
The truth is, in that file folder full of words, I also found a few pieces to be proud of...a couple of award winning articles, in fact...I put that file away before I started blogging tonight, but maybe tomorrow I'll reprint them. Or maybe I'll actually come up with something new!