Looking Back, Moving Forward

Mellby Hall, St. Olaf College

I've been a writer for as long as I can remember. I made up stories for all of my childhood and in the 4th grade I started to write some down. In 5th grade I "published" an entire series featuring the same characters for a school project. I have no idea what ended up happening to them, but I probably created about 12 of these books, bound with cardboard and wallpaper scraps. I think the teacher only required one for the assignment.

The most intense period of my writing life began (not particularly surprisingly) in college. I knew, from Day 1, that I wanted to be an English Major and I knew that I wanted to take as many writing classes as I possibly could. And I did. Both my junior and senior year I had to create independent study classes in order to fit even more in. It was a wonderful time, to be sure, but there is a part of me that really wishes I could go back and start again with the experience I've gained in the 13 years since graduation. Time has given me a lot more to write about and experience has taught me how to do it even better, fingers crossed. And what I wouldn't give to be surrounded by such a wonderful writing community again with classmates down the hall, professors in the cafe, random and inspiring conversations on the sidewalk.

Earlier this week I went back to visit St. Olaf. I walked halls of the English Department, saw an old professor or two, and was flooded with the memories of days long passed. It got me thinking about a few ideas that had been rattling 'round in my head in a new way, ideas about future writing projects and I'm left wanting to sort through boxes of old journals, letters, and memories, see how they've settled over the years. Maybe I'll find a short story or two that would be worth dusting off.

You know, there are only 47 more days until the next NaNoWriMo...