Gen and i are SO excited to offer you the readings, muses and the real-life story of Katie Twitchett. She will be here monthly with us at Loaded Bow where you will be able to follow her through the creation and exicution of her dream of becoming a writer. Katie will also offer resources on writing and following your heart.
Katie takes a good look at the future
ABOUT HER: Katie Twitchett is a free lance writer in the making, Mom to one year old daughter Gwynevere, coffee barrista extraordinaire, gourmet cook, and reality show expert. She takes up residence in the glorious town of White Rock BC, although she spends a lot of time taking imaginary and totally free vacations to such luxurious hot spots as Italy, Brazil, and Kenya. She likes long morning talks in vinyl clad greasy spoon booths, laughing until pop comes out her nose, and knowing that she is surrounded by some of the best people this world has to offer.
WAKE UP, O SLEEPER by Katie Twitchett
You could say I’ve always been what some people like to call a dreamer. As a kid the phrase “she has her head in the clouds” followed me around like a half-starved stray dog. Of all my many dreams, of who I would be and how I would irreversibly change the world, the strongest and most persistent was definitely the one entitled, simply, “the writer”. Since I can remember I have carried this dream, heavy and potent around my neck. It’s a very specific dream, one that comes with a very definite set of visual images: myself wearing glasses (which the optometrist seems unfailingly convinced I do not need), tousled hair, and an ever distracted gleam in my eye, soaking up every curious detail about the people and world around me, furiously scribbling notes into a scrapbook of ideas which I would later compile into earth shattering prose and poetry. And I would change the world, yes, change the world forever with my humble written word.
You see why I acquired the reputation of a dreamer so early on. And maybe, also, why I have always been so intimidated, actually, scared paralytic by my own dreams. For while I have always been a person who writes, ever since I learned the art of using ink, lead or a word processor to translate thoughts into readable format I have never felt like I quite measured up, nor could I ever hope to attain the lofty title of writer. But still, one can always dream, and cling to these dreams -however unattainable-clutch them in your arms, pop your thumb in your mouth and drift off to peaceful sleep.