My Short Essays

Journey of a writer

I do not remember when I became a writer. It is hard to remember the past, especially when it was years ago. But people try to recall earlier moments in their lives all the time, a childhood book maybe, or the way you felt the first time you saw the hues of a red-orange sunset. One thing that is clear in my mind is my mom has always been an inspiration to me for reading and writing.

My mom is a language teacher. She is the best reason why I have a deep passion for writing. She teaches English to all sorts of people from baseball players to anyone who wants to learn from all around the world. When I was little, I was a quiet girl and I always watched my mom carrying journals and notebooks everywhere she went. Through my youthful child eyes it looked like those stacks of notebooks and papers reached the ceiling from atop her desk.

"Mami, can I have one of your notebooks?" I mumbled in a mouse-like voice.

"Of course mi amor, what do you want to use it for?" My mom asked as she handed me a notebook.

"So I can be like you, Mami!" I said with the biggest sweetest smile, you could get a cavity just by looking at it.

I went from reading stacks of thin hardcover picture books to making kindergarten style amateur picture books. I left notes to my parents, created stories from the back of cereal boxes and, you get the picture. Years later, I took a journalism class in high school where I started writing a short story. Soon after, the short story turned into a book with multiple chapters, where my imagination ran free in this new world I had created over the years.

I tried a lot of other activities I thought I was passionate about, but nothing flowed like writing. I also like reading, though in the past, I didn't like reading thick books that felt like I was carrying a slab of concrete. I came home from the preschool library with approximately ten light as feather thin picture books to read. I loved visiting the library.

"Why don't we read this book today?" My mom suggested with a playful smile as she grabbed a book with a mouse in overalls on the front, off the pile of thin books.

My mom had given me a green slightly cold hardcover thin picture book If I Give a Mouse a Cookie by Laura Numeroff. That mischievous mouse made me have an unquenchable curiosity and shifted my developing mind to love reading.

"Your creativity is boundless," my mother said tenderly as she stroked my head.

I realized that everything I tried when I was younger became part of my skill set. It helped me develop my passion for reading and writing. Writing was a driving force inside of me, it was the one thing that made me smile without fail.

"Your imagination is your inspiration to write," my mom said as she hugged me firmly.

I am a slow writer who keeps revising the chapters after an idea pops into my head. I am a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to my books. I never thought I would absolutely love to spend hours of my life looking at a lot of words on multiple papers glued together at one side. Or that I could be a writer, writing those very words on that same paper. Many years passed until I realized that I love a good story, nothing beats the smell of a real paperback book and the feeling your fingers get when they are flipping through the pages, more so when that story is written by yourself.

It's true I do not remember when I became a writer exactly, but maybe it was so hard for me to recall because the answer was right in front of my eyes the whole time: my mom. When I remember my mom reading If You Give A Mouse A Cookie to me, it always makes me smile with nostalgia. All those thin picture books hold a special place in my heart. When it comes to writing and reading, she is and will always be an inspiration for me.