In “On Writing” Stephen King wrote,
“The scariest moment is always just before you start. After that, things can only get better.”
I perused their tweets and lurked quietly into their blog posts. I followed their tales and shared joy from their memories. I felt the familiar twinge of jealousy as I scanned all the comments and tweets among the group; I would never feel such camaraderie.
The Red Dress Club? Looked like fun. However, jumping in myself was an utterly horrifying idea. These were real writers; teachers passing along their gifts to the newest generations, published authors, and bloggers who have already reached a certain level of fame I could only hope to find.
I was not qualified.
It was too scary.
What if they laughed behind their computer screens, baffled by the nerve of this untrained nobody blogger?
The RemembRED memoir prompts were persistent, intriguing me week after week, pulling me to join in. Finally, I took the plunge. Six months ago, I linked up with my very first The Red Dress Club post: First Day.
My stomach fluttered as my sweaty hand guided the mouse to hover the cursor over “publish”. I closed my eyes and quickly, before I could change my mind, clicked. That moment was the scariest. It was the moment I allowed myself to join a group of talented writers. The moment I agreed to call myself a writer. My own kind of writer, perhaps, but a writer nonetheless.
It has been easy from there. Am I a professional writer? No, and I don’t need those credentials. I blog for fun. I blog to relieve my brain when words are building up inside.
And when a prompt inspires?
I write. I link up. I tweet it out. Then I sit back and enjoy the creativity of others.
I am uplifted when I touch someone with mine.
The Red Dress Club has since evolved and has a new name: Write on Edge. Intrigued? Join in! I promise it is not as scary as it seems.