When I write, the words are like a spine. They need adjusted, manipulated, popped, and aligned so they can be in just the right order to punch your heart, sharpen your mind, or enfold your soul. It’s an exhausting process, but it’s a magical one. It gets me every time.
At some point my best friend* (and fellow writer) and I came up with the term “word chiropracting” to refer to the writing and editing process. To me as a writer, it’s a fitting term, because I don’t necessarily feel like I conjure words out of thin air; stories are always living and breathing and growing in the ether, and it’s my job to simply take them down and make sure the words are in the right order when I do.
My dream is to be a professional fiction writer and English professor. I fit the stereotype pretty well, if I do say so. I have my bachelor’s in writing and I’m currently working on my MFA and then, hopefully, my PhD. It looks to be a long road, and it’s already had some unexpected turns, but I’m okay with that (when I’m not freaking out about it).
As much as I’m proud of my dreams, I know beyond any doubt that I wouldn’t have half the dreams I have, do half the things I do, or be half of what I am without my husband. He’s a Russian-born athlete, a sports guy to the max, and yet somehow we got together and fell in love and decided to get married… right in the middle of college. It’s been a weird juxtaposition of wild college life and settling down, and it’s both amazing and frustrating. And it’s the best thing we ever did.
This blog is where I explore what it means to be married, what it means to be a writer, and what it means to be pursuing my passions as far as I can. It’s where I figure out how these three huge parts of my identity come together and separate, how they feed into each other and sometimes detract from each other, too.
This blog is where I record the daily writing lessons I learn just by living.
By being a word chiropractor.