
After I was discharged from the Marine Corps, my first mother-in-law asked me what would be a prescient question.
“What do you want to do?”
“I want to be a writer.”
“Don’t strive to be a writer, write.”
It would take years before I finally put pen to paper, first writing poetry in the 1990s. Then in 2018, I saw a Facebook post saying the MilSpeak Foundation was hosting a Women Warriors Writing Workshop weekend at Queens University of Charlotte in North Carolina. I only had to pay for my room and transportation.
I jumped at the chance and took an early flight so I could check out the Whitewater Center and take a zipline tour before the festivities started. Note to self: visit the Whitewater Center again and try whitewater rafting.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I wanted to reignite that dream, to write the book I wanted to read when I was struggling.
The weekend was transformative.
A Friday night welcome reception with Open Mic kicked things off. Several women were published authors, and many others were further along their writing journeys than I was. It was intimidating. And inspiring.
The weekend was filled with keynotes, break out sessions, and on Sunday a small-group workshop. Participants were asked to bring five copies of a work-in-progress, whether it be fiction, memoir, poetry, or an article. I went back to my room to write something so I could participate.
Nothing.
I could not write. I was so hung up on wanting it to be perfect that I couldn’t get any words out of my head.
Sunday morning I listened in awe while other brave writers shared their stories. I vowed one day I would too.
It’s been three years since that weekend spent in the company of badass women warrior writers. Although I didn’t write anything myself, I consider it the beginning of my writing journey because of the writing friendships I made and the inspiration I received…and the adventure continues.