Writing as a way of life

Writing is in my blood. I feel compelled. Samples of first grade printing are held in my school scrapbook. I can still sing the "ABC Song," and, like many moms, taught it to my children. Mrs.I., my first and second grade teacher, had excellent penmanship. She modeled the graphic beauty of a life of letters for me, before anyone showed me the beauty of the meaning of words, as they stood on their own.
At that time the writing had to be right. The assignment had to be correct to get a "1" (A), the grade back then. I felt compelled to get good grades. So excellence became an additional value to me, along with beauty.
The third value entering into the evaluation of my own and others' writing proved to be complexity of thought. Combine this with the simple style and you have got my attention. It is a dynamite combination, and often a mark of my favorite authors.
Using a typewriter like the illustration, my favorite aunt was an author. She wrote several historican novels published by Rand McNally. She was interested in documenting the lives of people she considered to be fascinating characters. One of her most intriguing characters was her father, my paternal grandfather. She worked on his life story off and on for decades, but it was, sadly, never formally published. She could never edit it down enough. She died a week after she finished writing the book at age 90+.
I am no longer required to write professionally, as I am retired. But when I was working as a psychotherapist, writing casenotes - documenting the sessions my clients and I had together - was an important part of my responsibility. A subsequent counselor might need them for a history, my supervisor needed them to give collegial feedback, and they could even be used in a court case when subpoenaed.
So now I write a couple of blogs and happily read what others write. I look forward to both activities every day.

Tags: writing writers blogs authors
My topical post today at South by Southwest is about the word "Liberal."