I have been reading memoirs lately…and I can’t help but feel a little inspired to write one myself. Do I have it in me – to tell my story? The whole honest brutal truth. The good, the bad, the ugly and the even uglier? I think I just might. I have some tales to share…more than just what happens in Beverly Hills…Michigan.
As I was cleaning out the basement, I came across a binder of stories that I wrote for my Vampires and Werewolves class in college. Yes, that was an actual class – before the mega-hit Twlight was even a glimmer in Stephanie Meyer’s mind. Before Edward and Bella, Jacob and his werewolf band of brothers, there was little ole me, listening to the teachings of my German professor about the legends and drafting short stories. And ya know what? Even though they were penned by an amatuer author (myself, of course) they weren’t half bad. Granted they aren’t anything that would make the New York Times Bestseller List…but still I managed to earn some decent grades on them. Maybe what I am trying to say is that I do have the ability to write entertaining stories. And that it might be time to actually put some stuff down on paper.
What do y’all think? Crazy?
Maybe so, but then again maybe not…