I don’t remember if it was my idea or Mr. Zielinski’s. Maybe I borrowed his idea and shaped it to fit what I felt was achievable at the time. It doesn’t really matter where the idea came from, though. What matters is for a long time, I was doing it, and it was good for me, and I think it could be good for me again. When I was younger–and this is over a decade ago now–I challenged myself to write at least 15 lines of prose a day.
It’s likely that the bulk of that prose would be, in hindsight, pretty embarrassing. Here are just a few reasons for that.
- I was a teenager then.
- I wrote an excessive number of love stories. They were set in kitchens and on road trips and at playgrounds. They had a sameness about them, a theme of a boy and a girl who fall in love in rather ordinary circumstances. They usually ended with kissing. They were flowery, but they were not pretty.
- I was enormously self absorbed. And I realize this is true for approximately 99.9% of American teenagers, but still, I don’t think I wrote about anything from an outsider’s perspective without it becoming “This is how this impacts me directly.”
- It doesn’t do much good to look back at a time when you didn’t particularly like who you were.
And yet, the concept of writing that much daily is really appealing right now. Aside from reading and maybe riding roller coasters (maybe), I’ve never liked any other activity as much as I enjoy writing. Even if no one ever sees the words I wrote (and thankfully, the worst of the stuff was for my eyes only), it’s a healthy thing for me, jotting down thoughts on the new pharmacy tech at Walgreens or Scott’s iTunes playlist or how horrible my hands smell after cleaning the refrigerator. (And it’s bad, guys. It’s really bad.)
So I’m going to start doing that again. Sometimes, the results will show up here. It’s going to be nice to write without scrutiny, without obligation, and without rules. Teenage Christy didn’t know nearly as much as she thought she did, but she knew this was a good idea.