Learning to Write

I learned to write about every other semester starting in kindergarten. Back then it was, just circles lines and I moved on to crossing x's and t's and eventually learned how to put letters together to say things. I didn't think I had much to say, really. But I started noticing. That's a pretty important part about writing, well, living really. If you see it and say it, it's yours.

I am pretty intimate with my Muse. I let her do things to me that J.D. would never dream of doing. She gets in my head and I have to stop doing math or peeing or driving when she talks to me. I keep a notepad everywhere I go. Mostly the pages are blank, but inevitably if I look at a blank page or a keyboard for more than 10 seconds and I don't have a pressing project, I'll write whatever she wants. I usually sort it to the 5-Words file.

I have many writer friends and my Muse may be just like there's, but we don't compare. That's not nice to do because you can't control her and a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. Like the eight-armed goddess that touches where ever she wants and leaves small, visible welts when she touches you. And, oh my, it feels really good when the welts end up being grafts of drafts that you've started somewhere else.

In many writing classes there is a standard outline to writing a good... whatever your good thing is... there is a process. Outline; build a story; never use adjectives when a verb screams meaning; on and on and on. I've taken a lot of writing classes. I started early but when I was a young mother I craved writing so I'd take all kinds of creative writing classes at the library, night classes, workshops. How to get published in a magazine like, wait... wait... Better Homes and Gardens. That was my dream. Make money writing. So now I can spend an hour writing about how to remove a stain of blood while remaining sitting, at a ballpark, watching a baseball game, holding a Colissimo sasauge, and all you have in your purse is a sock... and I've made $20! Making the money, oh yeah!

Anyway, just in the last year I've felt really comfortable writing about anything and I know it's because I really don't care if any one likes it. I finally imagined what I could do if I knew I couldn't fail.

So, here I am, the night before the big day for a lot of people that have invested years and thousands in nursing school (these people aren't dummies), and my niece has asked me to speak at graduation. It's a big day to me too because I'm arrogant enough to believe that I could come up with something someone might want to hear. And because I'm me, I wait until midnight and counting to pull together some thoughts. It wouldn't matter to me if there were 50,000 people or 2, I prepare the same.
Back to musings. This is my process and it is not easy. Stew about it for 8 weeks, thunk, thunk, thunk. Could say this, or this, or this. But I'm insecure enough to recognize that no one ever remembers their graduation speech. So I could go a couple ways -- care, or not care -- about what they think. But this time I want to inspire just one person. Just one.

If I could take everything back and have a do over graduation, I'd redo high school graduation and wear a thong and flip-flops and a demi bra under my red graduation gown. That's it folks! People actually do that now days. I'd still have the ceremony on the football field and I'd still sit next to my best friend that was 5-months pregnant (the first ever allowed to walk at graduation as long as her condition wasn't obvious). And I'd ask Philip Levine to recite a poem. Yes, I'd like that.

But I can't so that's why I've waited until Graduation Eve to find the perfect things to say. Here's the rub. If I outline, strategize, plan the best poem or speech, it reeks of speakage and who wants to remember something that is seeping everywhere for 5 excruciating minutes. And then they will remember my speech as the most immemorial one ever!

Nurses are no dummies so that's what is so weird about this. My niece asked me to speak, for 5 minutes, about anything, yes ANYTHING I want. Ummm, that's a little vague. So now, not only do I need to write it, I have to invent it too!

So, rule # 1: Write what you know.

All I really know intimately is me and my story(ies). I chose to stick with the same old one and pull in some things I've written before. And I ramble and revise and write what seems to be some waa, waa, waa about being hurt and healing.

And after a couple hours I do a dry read. And OMG! And stupidhead, me, I didn't recognize it when it was darting from my fingers. It's about nurses changing lives. That Muse, she is a sneaky little viper. Just one, I just want to affect one person.