Barbaric Yawp

When I was six, my mom gave me a journal. She urged me to write but wrote the first couple entries for me, because at the age of six, the most I could really write was "I am Sarah. I am 6. I have a nice dress." When I learned to write, I wrote more, and became attached to my little journal. I carried it with me in my backpack and when I got one, my purse. I have about 21 finished journals now, and probably should have used my rusty common sense to destroy the bleeding entries. Journals after all, are mostly used to vaunt, vent, or vilify (yes, I am a dork). Through time and self-discovery, a strange process of association occurred which unites my idea of me with writing. When I think of "Sarah," and "me," inevitably "keeping a journal" and "writing" always comes to mind too. I think my urge to write was enhanced by my urge to read, which is another attribute I owe to my mom.

I am your token bookworm. I found this excerpt from a poem I was reading that I found eerily representative of myself:

"Your troublesome legacy
and maybe part of your charm, is to shine
too hotly and brightly at times, to be lost
in the maze of your sensations, to have
trouble switching gears, to be socially
clueless, to love books as living things,
and therefore to be much alone."

It is a poem by Amy Gertsler called "For My Niece Sidney, Age Six." She writes to her niece, the girl she describes in the passage above. She writes it because she sees herself in Sidney. I suspect Sidney likes to write too. I also suspect a hefty proportion of writers and authors and those in a love affair with words are just like the girl in the poem, and just like me.

I've always felt to be in a paradox. I am socially clueless. I am awkward with the handling of normal exchanges of conversations and tend to end them abruptly and clumsily. I am not one that most people would describe as a great conversationalist, good listener, or even sensitive to the needs of others. I am helpless in relationships and I burn bridges unintentionally. And yet I can write about relationships, conversations, social situations, and dialogue exchanges perfectly. I don't by any means consider myself a literary genius, but I like to write, and know that it is one of my talents; being a people person, however, is not one of my talents. That is the paradox. I can observe and describe, but can't do. Naturally I want to be better with people. I want people to feel comfortable and entertained, and that I listen to them and make them feel important. There is something encouraging about having a talent, but any talent cannot measure up, wearing five-inch heels and on its tiptoes, to the relationships with the extraordinary people you acquaint yourself with. Many people deep down want just this out of life, and I am no exception. Except that I am sometimes, when I write.

Life may or may not always be greener on the other side. To be much alone, and to write. I have no qualms with that. I'm somewhat more at home in the fluidity of words than in the awkwardness of all the social games that always accompany the extraordinary relationships anyway.