Welcome to my first post! A little bit about this blog:

A couple of years ago I had a flash of inspiration.

I have always loved to write. When I was little, I would invent stories while going to sleep or vacuuming or jumping on the trampoline. I could have been called dramatic…maybe.

After a while, I began to write these stories down. It proved more difficult than I had anticipated. My first story was called “My Little Pony” (I had never heard of Twilight Sparkle and her friends, so there was no copyright infringement that I knew of). I discovered that I knew point A and B but had no idea how to take the reader on a journey between the two. My conflict was resolved in a couple pages and I was left feeling like something with my story wasn’t quite right. Because, of course, life doesn’t work that way. Life is a journey, and nothing worth it is ever resolved in a couple pages.

Well, I got better. I wrote all the time and made some progress. But, writing, of course is not a realistic dream, so upon graduating high school and enrolling in college, I declared my major as Exercise Physiology. It made sense. I was an athlete. I had gone through knee surgery and the subsequent physcial theraphy. And exercise and sports was my dad’s thing. Did you know he has a PhD in Leadership in Athletics/Physical Education and played professional baseball? I’m very proud.

My first class for my major was Nutrition. I’m much more passionate about nutrition and cooking now than I was then, but I found that class excruciating. It was so…what’s the word…boring…dispassionate…soul deadening (As a side note, my husband was a physics major and has shown me that there is beauty in the sciences too, but that is beyond the scope of this post.). Later, I read the famous Walt Whitman poem, and it perfectly describes how I felt about all my science classes in college:

When I heard the learn’d astronomer,

When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me,

When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them,

When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,

How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,

Till rising and gliding out I wander’d off by myself,

In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,

Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.

I really just wanted to look “up in perfect silence at the stars.” I didn’t need to know how they worked.

But I was still fighting the idea society had given me that I needed a marketable major. I was quickly losing interest in mine, so I desperately tried to think of what I really wanted to do. I heard the question once, “What would you do if you weren’t afraid?” Well, I was never able to really answer that. I don’t know how to imagine away fear.

But one day, I was texting my friend, Drew. Out of nowhere, he said, “Tell me a story.” A silly request, but I of course complied. I texted him an absolutely ridiculous little vignette which I am now making into a full length trilogy of course. He thought it was quite brilliant, but he was already a fan of mine, so it may not count.

And that story may never get published, but it did accomplish something. It made me remember how much I loved creating stories. I realized that what I really wanted more than anything was to be a mom and write books. I wasn’t to be married for some time, so there was nothing to be done about the first part.

BUT I immediately changed my major to Creative Writing in a semi-suicidal leap of faith or foolishness.

I learned so much from reading and writing in my 4+ years of college. I had some amazing professors who helped me learn how to navigate between A and B and how to make B worth the journey. I learned about words, grammar, analysis, and the beauty and power of the written word (more on that in another post). I felt I also learned a lot about human nature and life in general.

With all modesty, I did very well in my major. I found that research papers were easiest. You see, when you write a creative non-fiction or fiction piece and someone criticizes it, it hurts your vulnerable little heart. A piece of you has just been shredded. It’s much easier to brace against criticism of something like a research paper. And I got very good at them, but I also grew very tired of them.

When I graduated, I was so excited to just read books without having to write about them that I didn’t write…for a couple years. I know all my professors would hang their heads in shame for me. Life happened. I had to deal with graduating and trying to figure out what to do next with an unmarketable bachelor’s degree. I got married a year and a half later and started working and just kind of let it go.

Until the heretofore mentioned flash of inspiration.

I was watching a General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints with my husband. I don’t remember what was said, but I came to the realization that I was wasting my life. I mean, not entirely. I was teaching little kids and loving my husband with all my heart, but I was not using the talents God had given me. I was not using what I had worked so hard to develop in college.

I had always wanted to write books and had started many, but college had given me a love for short stories and creative non-fiction essays as well. I decided if I waited to get my writing out there until I had a novel that was perfect, I was going to be waiting a long time. I needed a medium. So, with my husband’s support, I bought this domain name.

And didn’t write a thing…for two years.

Better late than never I (and a lot of other people) always say.

So, here I am.

This is the dawn of my career as a writer. Just kidding. I don’t take myself that seriously. But I intend to use this blog to share my thoughts in a creative way. Some of it will be musings on life, creative non-fiction essays, and maybe even some short stories.

That brings me to the end of this introduction. You’re probably like, “Wait, you never addressed your title.” Part of it is because I have always liked mystic and vague titles.

But really, I had a point. In the movie, Tuck Everlasting, at the heartwrenching scene when Jesse Tuck is forced to leave Winnie (him being immortal and she mortal), he says to her, “Until we meet again, wake up with the dawn.” In other words, really live.

This is my first post, so it’s the dawn. I intend not to waste anymore time drifting through life and not doing the things I love most. I love being with my family, I love being a disciple of Christ, I love to cook, I love yard work and house work (I’m being honest), I love playing the piano, and I LOVE to write. So, this is just one of the ways I’m going to wake up.

Thanks for being here.