Lately, I’ve found myself interested in writing more.

Sure, I could stand to write on the blog more.  The three or four of you still reading me religiously are probably about fed up with my scattering of posts.  But I’m talking about writing.  The writing for me kind of writing.  The writing for my sanity writing.  The writing for money writing.

In the past week, I’ve applied to write for an online magazine as well as a gadget-related blog.  In my day job, I’ve applied to two different management positions, one of which I didn’t get.  I had an issue with my State Farm credit card the other day - they lowered my credit limit.  All the payments I’ve been making in the last few months now seem to have been a waste of time.  Where I was at about 60% of my credit card paid off last week, now my card appears to be maxed out again, thanks to their thoughtless business strategies.  My credit card company, to which I was trying to do right by, has now pushed my ability to purchase a house further back.

So, money’s been on my mind.  Also, my job has been on my mind.  Paying the bills and having no debt have been on my wish list.  And, as always, with all the craziness going on in my life, I cling to two things: my family, and writing.

Writing gives me back some of my sanity (as does my family).  When stress levels rise, I need an outlet to decompress.  Like family, writing is there for me.

And so, in the past week, I’ve thought a lot about both things.

The other day, I was in the shower, and as it often does while standing under a stream of hot water, I got to thinking.  I was thinking about my childhood in New York, and about my friends.  I was thinking about a guy I knew in high school, who could have been a close friend if I’d put more effort into it back then.  I’d seen him on Facebook over the past year, but forgot I even knew him.  When I finally made the connection, it made me wonder if there were other people I knew who I’ve forgotten.  The two were put together with the hot water of my shower, and a story idea was formed.

I started putting together a list of friends based on people I’ve known in the past.  Certain personalities starting being placed together to form the characters of my story idea.  A back story started forming.  An antagonist came to light.  The writing process, it seemed, was well under way.

Then, I sat down in front of the computer.  As always, I suddenly found myself blank.  I couldn’t put together the people in my story.  I couldn’t start writing.

I’ve read several books on character development.  I remember using techniques in English classes in high school and college to invent people for stories.  It’s not like I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, even though it often feels that way.

No, for some reason, over the years, I’ve allowed myself to have a different voice in my thoughts than I do on the computer.  Writing this blog entry, for instance, is easier.  Writing an email is easier.  Writing a story, however, has become difficult.  When I was younger, my voice through the computer wasn’t much different than my voice in my writing.  Now, they seem to have 15 years of difference between them.

So with my characters, I decided to try something I’ve read about before.  I took a step back.  I thought more about the character.  I thought about an email I received eerier in the week concerning a Writer’s Digest Short Short Story contest (1500 words or less).  I thought to myself, how can I give my character voice in 1500 words or less.  How can I begin to flesh out someone who doesn’t exist except for within my mind, and make them seem more real, in 1500 words or less.  This sentence puts me over 680 words in just this blog post - how can I create a person in the space of a long blog post?

I sat down to the computer, intent to try.  I failed.  I shut off the screen, and went to bed.

Laying in bed, I was no where near sleepy.  My mind was stuck on the short story.  I realized, I was trying to hard.  So I got back up, sat down in front of the computer again, and without much of a pause, typed out a 1490 word short story that sets the tone for an entire set of characters, their story, and their lives from about 10 years old through adulthood.  I did it.  I finally did it.

The next day, I had Jill read it.  She told me to submit it as it was.  I wanted some more eyes on the story, so I commented on it on Facebook.  I got a couple responses.  I sent out a couple copies.  I got some good comments back.

I felt so successful at having finally found a voice - not only my own writing voice, but the voice of five characters - that I decided to keep writing.  So far, I’ve written short stories for three of six main characters.  These characters are starting to have their own voice, their own stories.  And when I’ve found all their voices, I’ll use my own to weave their stories together.

The revelation can’t come at a more opportune time.  At work, I seem to have lost my own voice as well.  Around my family, I seem to have lost my voice.  With my wife, my voice has been muted, often silent.  I recently didn’t get a promotion because I’d lost my voice.  I’m now having issues with a credit card company because I wasn’t able to voice my concerns earlier in the year to effectively alter my now-strained relationship with that company.  Not using my voice has been costing me much for some time.  In some instances, it hasn’t been long.  But in other cases, I haven’t had my voice for years.

I’m done with the silence.  Hear me now.

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