Writing the story my heart wants to tell

So. Writing is a funny thing. It is part listening to myself and part daring myself not to listen to myself.  I find that it is somewhat difficult to stretch and take the risk of telling the story I want to tell.  Sometimes, I remember the books I have read on the craft of writing – and I cringe because most times my writing breaks those rules.  Sometimes, I am ashamed because the things I want to write about are singly about emotion and loving and longing and romance – and well, sometimes people say smart women should know better.  Sometimes, I find it hard to tear myself away from the thoughts that want to be written down.

I suppose the way to be a powerful writer is to be true to the inner voice that seeks to speak. And I have written before how this is an act of courage.  But then it is also a question of what makes writing powerful.  The stories I enjoy going back to read are those that have touched my heart in some way.  I find that the stories that I write that have the potential to leave a mark often come from a place of vulnerability.  I guess I have to keep writing to get comfortable with the idea of remaining exposed – and letting people into the deep space where the most intimate of the stories I wish to tell dwell.