I've never even been very good at keeping a journal, evern. I got my first journal when I was nine years old, for Christmas in the year 1997, and I was ecstatic. I had read Little Women that year and figured it was probably the best book ever written. Santa, also known as my father, had possessed the foresight to gift me with a hardcover Little Women-themed journal. The front cover displayed a colored-pencil drawing off Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy, and in the lower right hand corner of every other page was a pencil sketch of Jo, lounging on a couch with her pen and paper, considering which words she would choose to put her fiction to paper.
I started writing when I was in first grade. Admittedly, my first work was maybe eighty typed pages long, and was essentially a major crossover fanfiction, and by crossover I mean Bible/Lion King/Pocahontas/Ocean
Girl/Balto crossover. That whole fiasco was written over the course of three months and finished sometime in the spring of 1995, when I was still living in Alabama with my sisters, dad, and paternal grandmother. I'm sure a copy of it is still floating around somewhere. Sometimes I consider hunting it down and posting it on fanfiction.net just to see what happens. Trust me, it's horrible. My main character is named after myself and is the little sister of Jesus, is raised by Rafiki, becomes best friends Simba, gets chased off by Nala, rescued by Pocahontas, trained by the chick from Ocean Girl... and so on and so forth. At some point she goes back and saves everybody's ass the way Simba does. And also she's best friends with all the hyenas, too, who really aren't Such Bad Guys After All.
But I digress. My point is that it took me two years to get through that journal, even in my atrociously huge and slightly-sloppy cursive handwriting. I've been gifted with several journals over the years, none of which I've finished, even the beautiful leather-bound journal I bought from Barnes & Noble my senior year of
high school, back in 2007. I try to write in that one, but it always seems that every time I actually start committing to journaling or blogging, some crisis occurs in my life that I don't want to even think about, let alone write about. Back then it was my boyfriend's (now fiance's) deployment, and my disintegrating relationships with my father, which resulted in me being kicked out of my family's home for a few months. However, things seem to be getting on the right track again lately, so we'll see how this all works out.
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