Hello and Happiest of New Years!

My son, Tony, suggested several months ago that I should start a blog. As with most good suggestions, I put it off. But now that we're well into 2013, I've decided to "grab the bull by the horns" and do just that. (For the record, in the writing class that I attend, these sorts of cliche' and over-used phrases - like "grab the bull by the horns" - are highly frowned upon, so I think that for THIS blogging purpose, I'll use them!)  ;)

Writing is something I've always enjoyed. As a teen and young adult, I faithfully journaled. Sometimes my chosen topics seemed inane, like what I ate for dinner that night. And sometimes I'd bare my soul to my journal's pages, admitting my current broken heart or unlikely-to-happen plans for the future. I never really considered myself particularly (again, in class, not big into the adverbs, but I like them anyway!) gifted at authoring. But you know what? Now that I'm firmly footed into middle age (51 years old as of last August) I find that I'm surprising myself.

Back in 2009, after a many-years hiatus, I started taking a writing class. My son got married in January of that year, and my daughter's (Megan's) wedding was scheduled for December. With two weddings in one year, there was a great deal going on in our family's life. (But not a lot for me directly.) Life was changing, no doubt. My traditional role of stay-at-home mom was really no longer needed, and technically hadn't been needed for quite some time. It was time for me to figure out what would be next - for me, this time. I skimmed through the mailer that our local tech school sends out (Waukesha County Technical College), and found a simple non-credit class called, "Creative Writing for Publication." Hmmmm, sounds like a good place to start... I figured that if my daughter needed help with her wedding planning, I could easily miss a class session without penalty, but if she didn't need my help, my time (and my mind) would be well occupied.

How strange it seemed, walking into the school on my first day. I had no idea who my teacher would be, or what the other students might be like. Since I was already 48 years old, I assumed most people would be much younger. As I wound my way through the hallways, scouting for my classroom, kids sat on the floors, some working on homework, some chatting quietly on cell phones. I wonder what they're thinking. Do they know I'm in my 40's? Don't make eye contact - you have the right to be here. Focus, focus... I repeated to myself in my head (sometimes a scary place to be).

But when I finally found my classroom, I took a deep breath, pulled the door open and entered. All my fears subsided. The writing class was going to be a safe environment, I could tell. The few students that were already seated welcomed me with a warm "Hello." Most of the dozen (or so) women who eventually joined us, appeared to be older than me - not that it mattered in the least. It just goes to show that what I'd envisioned was so inaccurate. Our teacher (or was she a facilitator of sorts?) proved to be kind, soft spoken, always looking for the good in our writing while still offering solid ideas for improvement.

After 30 years, for my first time back as a student, who could ask for more than that?

I've grown a lot as a writer and a person since those early gone-back-to-school days of three years ago. I hope to share much of  what I've learned right here, in "Katie's View." 

I'm so glad you joined me.