by Shawna Blake

Created on: November 13, 2008   Last Updated: December 22, 2008

Each of us are born into this world with a purpose, and though we may go through life learning and evolving we are most certainly made laced with a gift. Most of us never find that true gift and allow it to grow and eventually blossom into greatness. For those of us that realize that gift, we will nurture it and explore it to the ends of the earth. It is a gift that comes naturally to us, and with that talent we find that we are both obsessed and enamored with it. Writing is one of those gifts. I am a born writer, and have been one since the very day I was able to hold a writing instrument and create letters. Though I have a great talent for it, I failed to notice it for years. Only recently have I come to the conclusion that this is what my life should be, and am working on gaining education to perfect my skills and learn the things that I need practice with.

Since I was a little girl I have written poetry, stories, letters, songs...anything that struck me in any way was copied onto paper. Fortunately for me, my grandmother kept much of that work through the years so that I may examine my work and how I have evolved. I did not realize that this was my true calling though until about four years ago. One day, after writing something, it was as if a light-bulb went off in my head. Suddenly the haze around me had faded and I understood completely. This was it! This was what I was born to do, I am good at it and more than that; I love it! I have a passion for writing that astonishes even myself sometimes. Until you have experienced your calling, it may be hard to understand how it feels to realize your talent. I think it is summed up quite well with a quote by actress Stockard Channing about when she realized that she was to be an actor. "And it was like everything came together in my head - in the sense of something that interested me tremendously intellectually". Indeed that is exactly how I feel about my writing skills.

It is not something that I sit and rack my brain about; it just comes to me. Ideas, words, prases, sentence structures just pour right out of my head and I am forced to jot it down before it is lost forever into the abyss of ideas in my mind. Each day my mind races and wanders with creative, erratic thoughts that are jumbled together waiting for me to eliminate the cryptic and piece together the perfection that will become my work. I am a born writer, and my abilities grow each hour of each day. I find that I am quite talented and there is little that can discourage me from it. I am a writer, and the only thing that may hinder me and my ability is myself. By this, I mean if I were to ignore my skills, or if I were to be too afraid to follow my dreams. At this point I am not afraid of anything. Not failure, not rejection, not ratings, nor critiques. So long as I am pleased with what I have written, that is all that matters.

Of course there are those that can learn to write, but those are simple professionals, they are not natural talents. In most cases, anyway. I have a knack for it, and have never learned much of anything formally about it. I may sit for hours and write, and pour my heart out about anything that comes to me. Of course there are times when I find it difficult to express myself, but everyone has a bad day. I know this is what I was born to do, to write. I am not a learned writer, I am a complete natural. I was not bred on it, I have noticed that many people in my family share similar talents, perhaps beyond my ability, or even not as well as my own. It is in my blood, it is in my soul. It is who I am, and I know that. I am a born writer, and I am very proud to be so. I hope that one day the rest of the world will know me as such.

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