When I was very young, 2nd grade probably, my oldest brother, who is 8 years older than me started writing poetry. Everyone thought his poems were great and he got a lot of attention. Me being a spoiled little sister, read his poems and decided that they weren't anything special, nothing I couldn't do, so I began to write.

Unfortunately I have nothing saved from that time in my life, but I do recall feeling very proud of my creations. I was also a very avid reader. I read anything and everything I could get my hands on.

By High School I was writing 3-5 poems a day. At the end of classes when we had 5-10 minutes of free time I would sketch out 2 or 3 poems and share them with friends. A few of those pieces have survived through the years...and well...they were obviously written by a high school kid during the last few minutes of class. But my friends liked them and they were a great creative outlet for me.

When I claimed my English major at Florida State University I was  told I need to choose between the writting track or the literacture track. I also was majoring in Marketing and felt that the writting track woud be a nice compliment. It was a tough track and boy did my ego get knocked around. But I learned that I did have a love for writing and a bit of a natural gift for it.

Then along came "real life;" family, a sales job, and all the responsibilities that come with being a grown up. There didn't seem to be enough time to write and very little inspiration. That is until my 6 year old son would not stop telling me stories and I decided to sit him in front of the computer to let him type it out. His first story was a page and a half, and showed much promise, so I told him the value of re-writes and gave him a few tips. I evern pulled out a few college books and discussed different techniques with him. Yes he was only 6, but he was a captive audience. He wrote everyday for several months, often times spending time drawing the scenes out before sitting down at the keyboard. On his own initiave he produced 4 drafts of the story until he reach the final 11 page types story titled' Universe Heros." Basically it was about an alien who wanted to destroy earth because he was allergic to it. It was good though. He had a natural talent for an aspect of writing that I always struggled with which is character development. You can only imagine how proud I was.

And how jealous.

I found myself saying, "I wish I had time to write. I wish I could write again." My little genius son responded by saying, "so write mom!"

What do you do with a 6 year old who enjoys writing? There are no writing classes for kids that age. So I stuck him into an acting program at the Red Door Playhouse. Not long after the Red Door Playhouse decided to host a poetry slam. I had never been to a poetry slam, and I definitely had no experience writing performance poetry, but I thought I would take the plunge and write something for their event. I wrote a piece called, "It Is She, Not Me"

I won 1st, 2nd, and 3rd prizes!

Because I was the only one to show up for their event.

That is when my marketing brain kicked in. I explained to the owners that most of the people that they know are parents, like me. Parents who either used to write and cannot find the time to write anymore or parents who never wrote but have experienced enough in their life that they feel like they have something to say now. I suggested that they start a writing workshop. They agreed and recruited me to lead it.We called the program Open Word.

We attracted a great group of people who stayed with the program for a few years. Even when the Red Door could no longer host the program, my group agreed to drive all the way to Alpharetta and sit on my basement floor to write. However life took over again when I launched my agency and I was no longer able to commit to the group. My hope with this group is that I can share with you some of the ideas and exercises we worked through, some new ideas and exercises, some of my own writings, and get to enjoy the writings of some of the group, and maybe occassionally meet offline for a bit of a poetry slam or just a glass of wine.