For as long as I can remember, I’ve been writing stories. Much of my childhood I spent filling journals, especially when my family and I travelled European countries and sailed foreign seas. Daydreaming was one of my favorite pastimes, along with creating things, exploring new places, and reading. I would write countless letters, little stories, and poetry. I wrote by hand, and sometimes used my grandfather’s old typewriter.
The older I got, the more I lost touch with my writing.
My years at university were filled with detours, because there was so much to discover: Philosophy, French, Medieval Studies, Oriental Studies, Musicology. I also moved to England to get my Diploma in Performing Arts/ Music, but…
I was lost. Battling my demons took up most of my energy, and eventually my life fell apart. Hitting rock bottom, I opened up to vulnerability and truth, and I rose.
As I was healing, the magic began to unfold.
Eventually, I got my B.A. in German and English Language, Literature, and Culture. I wrote my thesis on the topic of narrative techniques in the fairy tales of the brothers Grimm and fell in love even more with those old European tales.
What I didn’t know then was that studying literature was the closest thing to being a writer without having to face self-doubt and inner resistance. Immersing myself in the works of other authors, in research and theory, I dreamed of writing my own. Someday.
Meanwhile, writing papers at university worked fine, because there were dead lines. So I thought, becoming a journalist might be a good compromise. I tried it out and it worked. I would write late into the evening to get articles finished.
But where was the magic, the enchantment?
I had to admit to myself that I’d rather write down the ideas & stories that were spinning in my head. And still, most of my attempts were munched up by internal resistance.
Alas! A writer who doesn’t write is such a tragic character!
The call wouldn’t leave me alone, though I tried hard to run from it.
Then soon after I moved to the United States, I encountered amazing people who helped me get out of my own way.
Ah, the American Spirit! It changed me. I began to believe in myself and my dream.
I learned such precious lessons. I discovered that many writers struggle like this. I found ways of handling the wicked little “resistance monster”. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so odd and isolated anymore. It felt like coming home.
Switching my writing language from German to English was and continues to be a challenge, but so is being an “alien.”
Recently, I rediscovered the joy of drawing. What I first suspected to be a distraction from writing turned out to be a charming merge of the two.
And I fell in love with the idea of taking YOU with me on this journey of creative exploration!
Now, I’m following my heart to touch yours: May this bring you as much joy as it does me. And may my story inspire & invigorate you to follow the music of your heart as well.
13 little stories about me
- I’m a teacher at a Lifeways (Waldorf-style) Early Childhood Center. But in truth the kids are my teachers and inspire me all the time. I love having fun with them, making up silly songs and telling them about the alligator in my backyard pond.
- Some of my best ideas come either while I’m sleeping or driving.
There’s always a notepad and pen on my nightstand, so I can write even when the lights are out. And in my car, I’ve a attached a pad of sticky notes right by the steering wheel, so I can write when the lights are red.
- Growing up, I loved writing letters with ink and a fountain pen and had many pen pals. In fact, my husband and I were writing letters to each other for 10 years back and forth between Germany and USA, before we became a couple. Back then, I resisted getting an email account. I wanted something real. It had to be handwritten letters – with emotion, time and energy put into it. That’s how we really got to know each other.
- I have a German Shepard. Wolfi. He’s bigger than me. Hope he’ll never realize that!
- I’m madly in love with Kung Fu. Working out never used to be part of my world, until I found this fascinating martial art. The training is intense: merciless and violent, yet graceful and spiritual. My dog disagrees. If I dare start practicing around him he unleashes the police dog inside of him…
- Even though I’ve always been apprehensive towards the new technology, I was the first one of my friends (geez, perhaps even the first teenager!?) who had a cell phone. It was in the 90s, and my first apartment didn’t have a phone line. So, I got my dad’s old cell phone, which was huge and heavy like a brick!
- I grew up listening to the pioneers of country music: Hank Williams, Carl Smith, Johnny Cash, just to name a few. I could sing their songs when I was about 3 years old, but without having a clue about what the words meant. I was never aware that I get a Southern accent when singing American folk or country until real Americans recently told me so.
- After a bad day, I find it cathartic to watch some episodes of “Malcolm in the Middle”. I do love 80s shows like Columbo, Magnum, or the Fraggles… and I’m used to getting weird looks for that.
- As a child, I recorded 9 cassette tapes of stories about a girl who is intolerably bold. Someday, I might turn those spoken stories into books…
- When I was 12, I decided to finally write a proper (really thick!) novel. I started writing it on my mom’s typewriter. Volunteering at the SPCA as a child, my novel was about a sad lab named Lulu, who was waiting to find a new home. But I never got past the first chapter…
- When I was 16, I went to high school in England. I stayed in a tiny little town by the sea in an old pub (that was said to be haunted). I lived with the owners upstairs and enjoyed helping in the kitchen. One night, Keith Richards (yes, from the Rolling Stones) stopped by for dinner with some friends. I didn’t believe it until he walked right past me. Since I was too shy to ask him for his autograph, one of the regulars sitting at the bar gave me his…
- I’m in my late 30s, but according to my husband, I have a toddler’s sense of humor. I also suffer from sudden, seemingly random laughing fits that inevitably end with tears and severe tummy cramps. It’s pretty serious.
- I love the smell of especially older books. When I pick up a book (and nobody is looking) I habitually leaf through the pages and breathe in that wonderfully distinct and earthy smell. If there was a perfume like this…