Writing Lessons from a 2-Year-Old

Writing Lessons (1)I was watching my two-year-old son play the other day, running from home-base (which was me on the couch) to his kitchen play-set, his car, and then back.

Each time he left, he’d say, “Bye mommy. I go to work now.”

And I’d respond, “OK, have fun!”

Then he’d beam up at me and say, “OK. Fun.” And run off again.

I found myself wishing I could capture that pure joy. Feel the pride that completely transformed his face when he knew he’d said something and I’d understood it. I found myself wishing I could write like my 2-year-old. Not in broken –English, of course (unless the story calls for that), but totally absorbed in the wonder of words.

So, for the next couple days, I sat back and observed him with this questions in mind: What writing lessons can I learn from this crazy ball of energy? This is what I came up with.

  1. Don’t be afraid to try something new.

Ever watch a kid launch himself off a rock? Or belly-flop from an ottoman to a couch? (Mine likes to preface this last one by saying, ‘Doggie, doggie, Doooo” –not sure why) They are fearless. And sure, sometimes that leads to scraped knees or a knot on their heads, but it also leads to new experiences. Some mornings I find myself sitting in front of the computer, paralyzed by the idea that I don’t know what I’m doing; worried that I’m venturing off to ‘parts-unknown’ without a map. But that’s where the stories live, and really, the worst that can happen is several hours later my delete button gets a real work-out. As one of my high school math teachers used to say, “Buck up little campers!” Adopt the courageous (and sometimes foolish) heart of a 2-year-old, and just go for it!

  1. It’s OK to talk to yourself.20150828_165243

So honestly, this is one I was pretty good at already. Hanging out with two kids all day
I’m the only adult around to talk to so I take advantage, but the way children talk to themselves is different, better. Usually when I’m holding a conversation with myself the content is boring. Chores, lists, plans for supper. When my son talks to himself he does voices (usually high and squeaky); he takes on invisible bad guys, argues with Mickey Mouse, and travels to the moon. Think of all the adventures I could write down if only I was brave enough to have them in my head first.

  1. Keep trying until you get it right.

I tend to be impatient. I try things a couple times and if I don’t get it, I move on. Imagine if I’d done that as a kid. Imagine if, after the first couple times I fell trying to take a step I’d said, “Oh well, I guess that’s not happening.” I watch my son, with his tongue stuck out in concentration, try again and again and again to stack blocks. And every time they fall he just picks them up and starts over. Writing takes drafts, lots of drafts. Publishing takes nos. But I can’t just move on. I have to keep going until the writing is right and until I get a yes.

  1. It only takes a few words to get your point across.

My son, in four words or less, can tell me he needs a drink or something to eat, wants to go to the park, can’t reach a toy…etc. But it takes me four hundred words to set a scene. When I got my first set of real edits from a critique partner one of the biggest ones was, ‘cut, cut, cut.’ And I thought to myself, “But all the beautiful words! I worked so hard to string those suckers together.” Of course, when I sat down and actually studied them, there were a lot of things I could delete. If you can say the same thing but in fewer words, you probably should. Now if only I could remember that the first time…

  1. Language is magic.

This is what really inspired the post. I take communication so lightly now. I’ve been doing it for years. I’ve forgotten its magic. But I see it again when I watch my son talk. His face illuminates after even a simple phrase like, “More yogurt please.” He’s discovering the power I take for granted. Words. Thoughts made audible.  Transformed into something that can be shared and understood. It really is magic. And if I can only tap in to the wonder I see on his face every time it works, my stories will sing.

I’m a Writer…There I said It

Several weeks ago my family and I attended a small group from our church. It was one of the first meetings so we went around the room and did introductions. Simple stuff. What’s your name? Where do you work? Questions I’ve answered a thousand times. But as they came to me, I found myself giving an answer I never have. At least not out loud and not to strangers.

“Hi, my name is Tacheny Perry and I’m a stay-at-home mom and a writer.”

 End of sentence. No caveat. No prefacing it with ‘aspiring.’ Just “I’m a writer.”

And saying it like that made my heart pound, as if when they heard the ‘unpublished’ part, they’d laugh or throw rotten fruit or something.

But I said it anyway, because that’s what I am. Being a published author may still be just a dream, but I’ve always been a writer.

I get up every morning at 5am and pour my soul into characters I’ve only book
met in my head. I laugh and cry with them, because to me they’re real. And yes, some day I want to go into a bookstore, walk over to a shelf, and find a book with my name on it. But even without that, I love sharing quiet mornings with my stories.

So here I am, irrational fear in check(mostly), introducing myself to yet another group of people:

I am a writer.

Welcome to my journey.

And please, no one throw virtual fruit at me 😉