The Story of my Mind

Let me start with welcoming you to my blog. You may have checked out my welcome page, or my about page, but if you haven’t… then… Welcome!

My name is Lucy. I’m eighteen years old and am a GIANT book nerd.

• I love books
• Dragons are cool
• I’ve always thought bookworm sounds… weak or something?
• I don’t fancy being perceived as weak
• So I don’t call myself a bookworm

This is the summer before my senior year of college. I’m currently attending Utah State University as an English Major with an emphasis in Creative Writing. Fitting for a bookdragon, yes? I think so.

I’m writing this in my Miata, pulled into one of those canyon turn-around pullouts, with the top down, my music on shuffle, while wearing a strapless shirt. It’s roughly 75 degrees Fahrenheit, super sunny, and I’m probably getting sunburnt, but that’s alright because it’s beautiful.

(A view of the office!)

I honestly have no idea what to write quite yet. My brain is a giant mess of half-formed ideas, and I’m trying to sort it all out so I can properly proceed with this blog. I’m hoping that if I yell “I AM A WRITER!” then sit down and just begin typing, something will form. I’ve gotten that to work with my fiction before, but this isn’t just any story; it’s the story of my mind.

Want to know what my mind is currently saying?

“Wow. I can’t believe that my water bottle can be sitting in the sun and almost unbearable to touch, yet the water inside is still cold. I am boggled.”

Initially, evidence points to the water being just as hot as the outside of its container, yet it remains cold. I could continue this thought with some philosophical comparison to people and the complexities of emotions and what have you, but I really don’t feel like it, so I leave you with this very basic observation:

People are complicated.

And for any who are curious, I just had a bug fly down my shirt.

Complicated people have nothing and everything to do with why I am out in the middle of nowhere, writing an introduction in my car, my computer propped up against the steering wheel and my hair held back with a wide headband that covers my ears. In one instance, it’s simple: I’m a writer, I like nature, I like my car, my hair needs to be pulled back when I drive with the top down or I can’t see. The list of simple and logical things could go on, but when a different writer says they prefer to write in a café, or their bed, or beside a steaming mug of coffee at five in the morning, things cease to be logical for me because my mind can’t process the idea of getting up at five in the morning.

The truth is, everyone is vastly different and what works for one person won’t work for another.

My name is Lucy. I am 18. I am a bookdragon. I am attending university as an English major. When I drive with the top down, I wear a headband that covers my ears and a shirt that doesn’t cover my shoulders. I have a varied taste in music. I yell things like “I AM A WRITER.” I go off on tangents. I dislike the color pink. I don’t get up at five. I generally like my coffee with a lot of creamer in it, so I drink tea instead because I like most tea plain. I could probably go on about tea for a significant amount of time (just ask my mom). I write things in my mind before I put my fingers to the keyboard or my pen to a piece of paper. I work more than I do anything else.

All of this works for me.

However, what works for me won’t work for everyone. It might not work for most people, or anyone. It might not even work for me… I guess I don’t really know yet.

What I do know is, everything is a process and if there is the slightest possibility that I can help someone out by keeping a blog, by writing the story of my mind (even if that someone happens to simply be me—It’s not selfish, it’s reality) then I will take a chance and throw myself into this with as much enthusiasm as I can.

Because that works for me; it’s who I am.

Who are you?