My reoccurring dream over the years.

My reoccurring dream over the years.


         I have had a recurring dream over the years. My waking desire prompts it. It isn't for wealth, popularity, or love in my life (I already have that).
         I've wanted this ever since I learned I could create stories on paper. I was told at an early age that I needed to read to know how to be one. So, I read. I read voraciously. Anything and everything, All genres, from encyclopedias to romance fiction to fantasy. Everything. I had my first library card by nine and could go once every two weeks. I ran out of reading books before I ran out of time.
         At the age of ten, I began authoring my own stories. These were stories about my family; however, they soon turned into fantasy stories. Unfortunately, I did have a resource at home to share my outlet, but I wasn't deterred. I authored the stories because they were in my mind, wanting to come out to be released.
         When I reached Junior High school, we were given writing assignments. While they were restrictive for my imagination, they allowed me to write more and be evaluated. I always received a high mark during these assignments, though my handwriting needed improvement.
         High school was a tremendous boost for my writing experience. We had a foreign exchange teacher from Germany who taught Creative Writing I and II and Composition. She significantly encouraged my writing and was very interested in my private writing. She would evaluate and comment on all of them. She made several suggestions, always encouraging me to do better.
         It was during high school that I became aware of my dream. It started as something I shrugged off. Something like that never happens to people like me. Indeed, I am not good enough and never will be.
         College was another building block for me. I took seven writing courses over six years of college and was a Writing Tutor to first- and second-year students.
         After college, I kept writing on my own. Before the internet, entering contests took time. Though I received first and second-place winnings, I never forgot my goal, my dream. Teaching, family, nervous breakdowns, and general life got in the way. Writing took a back seat for the first time in decades.
         When I got back to writing, I lost everything I once had was gone. Indeed, my dream was gone. I felt empty inside. I was told to write; it will come back. So, I did. I wrote a piece called "The Last Date". It took five years because I was never happy with how it worked.
         Soon, I wrote a poem, another short story, and another. I was doing better than I expected. Besides my wife, I had a great cheerleader on my side, an old boss. She encouraged me to keep working on my writing and never stop. When she left her job, she gave me a compliment I will always have with me, "I wish I could write as well as you can. You make it look easy."
         I have kept that as my driving force. Many days, I didn't feel that way while creating this piece. I doubt my skills because I have no luck with my stories.
         But then I remembered my big picture. My big goal. What drives me? I will get there. I will. Maybe not tomorrow, but I will. I know it.
         My dream is to be a published author.


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