When I was 15 I was a really moody writer.
My pages were peppered with big words. You’d probably see a floccinaucinihilipilificate or elixir or trite floating around somewhere there.
My writing held a lot of anger too, and fear, and sadness.
I used my writing as a way to speak to myself, and that’s probably the only thing that hasn’t changed so far.
When I was 15, spellcheck wasn’t important at all. I feel the same way whenever I blog. All the words are completely raw and unedited. I don’t plan on changing that to impress anyone.
I remember that I used to write a lot for myself. When I started the blog I felt like this was my own lane to use. As I grew older I leapt into commercial writing and my blog saw a steep drop in content.
I’d say that at 15 I wasn’t writing content, I was making up stories. They were really inspired and wonderful. I can say that at 22 I am writing content which sometimes feels less authentic than earlier.
At 22 I want to get back to my 15-year old self’s writing, minus the weird vocabulary of course. I want to write rubbish stories that I can look back at and laugh.
I want to know that my writing means something to me. Yes, it currently does mean a lot, but there’s just a tiny bit more of me that has to come through.
I can say one thing though, I have gotten better at being consistent with my writing.
And as most writers can tell you, that’s a bloody good achievement!
In the spirit of reflecting on my earlier writing style, why not check out one of my earliest posts here. You’ll be surprised to see the difference!
Pic credit: Unsplash: Kat Stokes