What we have here is a new monthly column brought to you by . . . YOU.
We’re giving up control of what’s said and handing it over to the people who matter most: our clients. Your words in this space, once a month.
Oodles of ah-ha moments.
Some of the writers who will appear here didn’t have a clue where to start and subsequently transformed into writing machines. Some started right where you sit today, confused and needing guidance or maybe a little inspiration. And some were seasoned authors who needed a boost.
ALL of them figured it out and wrote epic shit.
This week, meet Brooke.
I’m laying by the pool, shaded by a Florida palm tree. I have The Bell Jar in one hand and my iPhone in the other (I’m a writer—I can multitask like nobody else), when I’m asked what has my editor, Becky, taught me?
I haven’t written anything for two months. Sure, I’ve written for a banking association and a few small businesses in St. Louis, but I haven’t worked on any of my own projects. Like my memoir.
I say writing gives me nightmares (PTSD is the pits). I say I can’t be too controversial because I’m only 19. (Employers and graduate schools check everything.) I say I’m busy, working 40+ hours to meet my diva-like needs leaves little free time.
The real story? I’m scared.
But Becky has stuck with me through it all — even when I avoid her emails like studying for the LSAT.
I came to Becky when I was 18. I had just finished my first year of college. I was working through a traumatic childhood (like most people) while getting slammed with the trauma that comes with being a young, single girl in a city. For the record, recovering from being roofied is worse than recovering from a narcissistic mother. Weekly therapy sessions helped me, but writing was my savior.
I came to Becky to strengthen my voice and learn to trust my writing. I sent her a few blurbs and she responded: Write a memoir.
But could I really write a memoir?
How could I keep a relationship with my mom if I take the phrase “airing your dirty laundry” to a new level by publishing family secrets? How could I ever get a job if all of my blunders are posted on the internet because writing helps me process my mistakes?
It’s been eleven months since I asked Becky those questions. And guess what? I have half a memoir written. (I could have it finished, but I’ve had to learn how to manage my PTSD while reliving the hard parts of my life in my writing.)
Becky taught me to take breaks when needed and how to say fuck you to the people who want to silence my voice.
I have a story. It deserves to be heard. And so do you.
Come back next month for another addition of “Pictures of Success in 1,000 Words or Less.” Brooke is a freelancer and college student who wanted to start a writing career but wasn’t sure how, until her former high school English teacher (our own Confessions columnist, Lindsay Capobianco) told her about Becky’s work. Since she wasn’t born a Kardashian, she figured she would write her way to stardom. She’s still learning the inner-workings of the writing industry while studying social work and English in St. Louis. You can find Brooke on Twitter @angeldbrooke, or you can drop her a line via email at brookedangel(at)gmail(dot)com.
P.S. The awesome cell phone app, Write Raw is out on Google Play for your Droid or the App Store for iPhone. It’s like having power cards delivered to you every day – FREE. And don’t forget to leave an app review.
P.P.S. The entire app image collection also lives on Pinterest. (We add more as they are released.)