What I Did Way Back BW (Before Writing) #BlogHop

 


 

I’m going to take this super awesome, fun, interesting blog hop and make it incredibly boring. It’s a talent. You can be jealous. I’m good with that.

Just taking a stroll down my cobblestone memory lane.

What did I do before I started writing?

I didn’t.

Wait. What? Let’s rephrase. I didn’t not start writing. I didn’t do stuff before I started writing. Except learn to hold a pencil.

There’s not a year in my life that isn’t connected to writing in some way. The years have all been accounted for. ALL OF THE YEARS!

 

 

What did I do way back before writing?

Short answer: Nothing. I’ve always been writing.

Slightly longer (and more technical) answer: Learning to crawl and walk, graduating from formula and baby food… At least I’m assuming that since I’ve no recollection but I’m eating solid foods and walking on my own (most days, anyway). I’ve had odd jobs over the years (like bartending) to pay the bills but have always been writing (teaching writing, studying writing, writing writing…). You get the idea.

 

 

Marcia Meara started (perhaps unwittingly) this popular blog hop (perhaps just me) about what people did before they stared writing. In Marcia’s posts, she talks about painting. Which is what she did before turning to writing. (There are pictures… Go. Look. They are awesome.) Then she asks her readers: “What did YOU do before you started writing? I’d love to know!”

So, now, it is your turn, as these things go. What did you do before you started writing? Write a blog post about it, leave a comment, send an owl…whatever. πŸ™‚ Happy writing!

 

30 thoughts on “What I Did Way Back BW (Before Writing) #BlogHop

  1. I agree with Robbie. You ARE funny, Sarah, and your humor and skill with writing shows in everything you do.

    I’m pleased you decided to start a blog hop on what you did before writing, and love what you revealed. I started writing as a child, too, pencil in my hand and all, but put it down on the advice of my parents and turned to other forms of creation. Thankfully, I’ve picked it up again. (Okay, not the actual pencil, since that would be slow and cumbersome, but the writing part.)

    Thanks for sharing my posts on painting, and I look forward to seeing where your blog hop goes! πŸ˜€ ❀

    Liked by 1 person

    • Aw, thanks, Marcia.

      That’s a shame to be asked to put away your pencil. At least you had a creative outlet, though. Your paintings are amazing. And I, for one, am glad you picked that pencil back up again. πŸ™‚ ❀

      Apologies for the delay in responding. Hope all is well with you!

      Like

  2. You’re so funny, Sarah, you writer you. I sold office furniture. Yes, I did! For 18 years! After 9/11, I quit that soulless job and became a mental health counselor, working for peanuts and making a difference finally. What a great tag. Happy Writing.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Wow. That was unexpected. Really? I can’t even picture that. The mental health counselor I can totally imagine. Doesn’t surprise me at all but does give insight into the depth of your gorgeous writing. Thanks for sharing, D! ❀

      Liked by 1 person

    • I can totally see that. And I’m sure they were gorgeous notebooks, decorated and adorned with pretty things. Perhaps even made by you? I wouldn’t be surprised. You’re a wonder. ❀ Apologies for the delay in responding, lovely.

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  3. Hehe, somehow, I am unsurprised that you have been writing since you’ve been able to write.

    Me, I think I spent a long time playing pretend and make-believing I had magical powers. I even gave my dog a nickname of Elsewhere, and we’d go on imaginary journeys to fight the evil foes. I’d craft potions by gathering rock chips after smashing some of the more sparkly ones and mixing them with special herbs (grass or raspberry leaves). Then I’d attack with my power to control the elements (usually involved spraying the hose around the yard) and toss magical bombs to escape when I couldn’t win the battle (we had one of those kiddie pools and tennis balls make a really cool splash when you throw them in). It often required daring feats of bravery (like climbing to stand on top of the monkey bars instead of hanging from them), and swinging to safety via the hoop on a chain (I don’t know what they’re called) without getting eaten by the monsters on the ground.

    I know, I know. Wild imagination. Now, as an adult squirrel, I’m content to leave the battles to my kids and just stick to exercising the subtly aspects of my ninja skills.

    Liked by 1 person

    • That is the best paragraph of What-I-Did-Before-Writing I’ve ever read. I can picture little Loni crafting potions and swinging from the monkey bars. Now I know how you write fantasy so well–you lived it. πŸ™‚ Ninja Squirrel extraordinaire.

      Like

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