(Preface: Below today's story is a recording of me reading it, so if you would enjoy that as you go, scroll to the bottom, hit play, then come back and read along.)
I feel like I’m cheating.
I always write in the first person.
I’m a life writer, it’s what we do.
The last time I wrote in third person was, oh, yes, earlier today when I attempted writing a story backwards, from the end, rather than the usual way, from the beginning.
I’m three sentences in and the desire to continue writing backwards is there, but it is requiring more of my brain than I can easily muster. So I stop, pledging to begin going backwards later today, after I’m warmed up.
I sip just above tepid coffee from a dollar store mug and feel the irony leaking down my throat.
I relax my shoulders so I might forgive myself just slightly more easily. The clouds hang close to the ground, strange, for Bakersfield in May. Garbage trucks convene with barrels lined up along curb sides. Sentries at attention lifted stiff up and over and tumbling out unused stuff. Far too much of it.
I subtract another moment of writing to massage moisturizer into my skin. “Deepen the experience both for my skin and my spirit. Not lost time, really, more like intensified pleasure time.” I tell myself, sounding like so many writers I abhor.
This story is going nowhere.
Like the sentries, lifted up and over and stiff and junk tumbles out, too much of it. Time to leave the keyboard, curl my hair and try again.
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Julie Jordan Scott inspires people to experience artistic rebirth via her programs, playshops, books, performances and simply being herself out in the world. She is a writer, creative life coach, speaker, performance poet, Mommy-extraordinaire and mixed-media
artist whose Writing Camps and Writing Playgrounds permanently transform people's creative lives.
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