Permission

The most important piece of writing advice I’ve ever received is from Molly Krause: “You may write about whatever you want, for the sole reason that you want to.”

We each have a story.
You have a story.
I have a story.
This blog is home to my story —
the Pieces of my Truth.
Welcome!

“You should be writing something else right now,” one of the voices in my head, which sounds identical to my own voice, just said. We’re always shoulding on ourselves, aren’t we?

Spoiler alert: I’ve been a writer my whole life. Except, much like my, “I’ll-only-run-when-being-chased” Exercise Philosophy (and, frankly, even that statement is highly suspect), for the most part, I’ve only written on command: for college assignments; as a part of my duties as an officer for the state interpreting association; or to develop presentations for work. Although I’ve always enjoyed writing – the composition formulation, the actual pen-to-paper translation of thought to glyph, and even the proofreading (my literary superpower) and editing – I’ve never, until recently, written for fun.

And then I had a stroke. What They tell us a stroke feels like, anyway.  Allofthescans later, the doctors decided I had not had a stroke. But they weren’t sure what had happened. Was I having transient ischemic attacks? Was my blood spontaneously forming tiny clots, which were then just as spontaneously dissolving? What else could it be? At barely forty-one, none of those options sounded appealing.

Luckily, it turned out to not be any of those things. Diagnosis: hemiplegic migraine – migraine activity that mimics a stroke, including temporary partial loss of vision; numbness or tingling in the face, head, neck, oral cavity, and/or extremities; nausea and/or vomiting; and partial or total paralysis on the affected side. Did you know that the main symptoms of migraine activity sometimes don’t include a headache? I didn’t, either.

Now I’ve got a shiny new beta blocker, and some other assorted supplements. A few weeks after my “stroke,” I was compelled to once again open my spiral-bound, college-ruled notebooks, and fill them with Uni-ball gel-inked musings.

I write creative non-fiction. Currently, I am working between a book of essays about my experiences as an infertility survivor who never had my own children, and a memoir about my partner’s in-progress transition to the man he has always been. Along the way are also bits and pieces about his children, our dogs, and other adventures (and misadventures). So sit down, strap in, and come along for the ride! Maybe even share some of the pieces of your story along the way.

Cheers!
–amy

Do you have a literary superpower? If so, what is it?
If you could have any superpower, what would it be?
Have you faced a major turning point in your life? If so, what have you learned as a result of the experience?

6 thoughts on “Permission

  1. It is silly but if I have any superpower, it is my dream. Most of dreams are not meaningful but I meet so many people all around world in my dream. Sometimes I saw the event in my dream and it really happened in my life although this case was very rare. So I have a dream power. Believe or not, it is awesome. 🙂

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