I follow
quite a few writers on Facebook and Twitter, and I read their blog posts and
articles. If a consistent theme exists in all of what writers, and especially
Christian writers, say about themselves, it’s that they’re called to write.
Christians writers say they’re called by God; others might refer to a muse, an
urge, a belief, a feeling.
That theme
of calling leaves writers like me in something of a quandary, much like the
Christians who accepted faith as a child and can’t remember the exact day,
time, and circumstance. I remember the exact time and place of my acceptance of
faith – Jan. 26, 1973, about 8:30 p.m. in the basement of a lecture hall
building at LSU. But to identify when I became a writer, or why, is not
possible for me – it’s buried so far back in the mists of childhood as to be
unknowable.
I read
early and read often. The first book I remember buying on my own was Trixie Belden and the Secret of the Mansion,
spending 59 cents at the local dime store. I was 7. My reading habit was reinforced
by the Scholastic Book Club at school and indulged by parents who encouraged
reading. One of the earliest memories of my mother was her reading Grimm’s Fairy Tales to me when I as two
or three; I still have the book.
But many
children and adults enjoy reading without becoming writers. Reading alone can’t
explain it.
To
continue reading, please see my post at Christian
Poets & Writers.
Top photograph by Ben White via Unsplash. Used with
permission.
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