Welcome to My Blog
I feel elated that you have come to join me. Snacks are in the kitchen. Drinks are on the counter. Feel free to flop down on my couch. I believe introductions are in order. My name is Elizabeth Ciel, but you can call me Liz.
Many writers believe that they provide the content and the readers should gobble up their intriguing verbs and overly anxious adjectives. I am of a slightly different mind. I get to create an environment, a space in which the readers and I can share. Given that this is a blog, I will do most of the writing. However, I have no intention of speaking at you. I’d like to invite you along for the ride. Hop in, and cruise along the words on this page. Feel connected to this world as I connect with you.
I find it far too easy to slip into a marketing ploy, where I sell myself as a writer and inflate my ego. I can just as simply babble on about my intentions and goals. I find it interesting, but why would you? So instead, I’ll continue with the introduction and tell you about who I am as a person, not as a writer. As a kid, I collected stuffed animals like it was a profession. The lucky few had an award-winning spot on my bed. They would become the characters in my stories when I was supposed to be sleeping. Ruff was a small Dalmatian dog. I got creative with the names as you can see. Charlene was a white fluffy Volpino Italiano. I looked at Google images, so I can confirm she closely resembled that breed. Of course, the two of them were the epitome of the perfect couple. As much as I loved telling stories with my toys, I never once played with a Barbie doll- tomboy to the core.
While cleaning my room in preparation to move out of my parent’s house, I found an assignment I had written in first or second grade. It was a letter addressed to the Carrotman, and I asked him if he was a vegetarian. Don’t ask what the assignment was because I couldn’t begin to venture a guess. In middle school, I started writing short stories. I specifically remember a page long character study in my barely legible handwriting. Be thankful so much writing today is typed. In high school, I continued to write short stories. I attempted writing a blog. My gimmick was socks. Yes, every single entry would relate to a kind of sock or at least have mention of one. I have no idea what I was thinking. I don’t even own a wide variety.
As far back as I trace my memories, I was a born storyteller. Over the years I have developed quite the eloquence with words. I can construct sentences with the necessary mortar and decorate them with Corinthian-styled columns. I can be pretentious and use a thesaurus to include gargantuan words. When it comes down to it, I just want to tell good stories, the kind where you get lost inside the world and are enriched by the characters. A story where you don’t want to tear your eyes away from the page until it’s over. A story that makes you feel a certain way and that resonates in your heart.
So I have shown the yearning to write is ingrained in me, but I still haven’t told you who I am. Here come the overly anxious adjectives, since I am a writer after all. I am an introvert. I am witty, sarcastic, and kind. I am empathetic and curious. I want you to like me, and I want to like you too. I am plagued by depression, which is a battle I have fought for many years. I enjoy learning about people, as I find them fascinating. Lastly, I never turn away a good story.
It was a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to seeing you again.