In Pursuit of Jo March: An Introduction
Writing: the love of writing, the fear of writing, and a welcome to my blog
“She did not think herself a genius by any means; but when the writing fit came on, she gave herself up to it with entire abandon, and led a blissful life, unconscious of want, care, or bad weather, while she sat safe and happy in an imaginary world, full of friends almost as real and dear to her as any in the flesh.” (Alcott 1896, 418)
I’ve asked myself constantly why I want to start writing again. There were times when writing completely consumed my life. First, as a child, I wrote fantastical stories complete with dragons and fae creatures. Then, came school. A seemingly endless waterfall of essays that took up my weekends and evenings, but despite their consumption, I did enjoy it. However, I am not a child anymore, nor am I in school, so why write?
I picked up Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women from my local bookstore earlier this month. The edition I bought is squat with big margins making it a behemoth of a book at a whopping 777 pages. I honestly wasn’t sure if I had the stamina to get through it, as most of the books I read are somewhere around 400 pages max. However, being a fan of the Little Women movies, I knew I had to read the source material. Now, being over 50% of the way through the novel, I find myself inspired to write once again.
Josephine March was always the character that I related to most when I watched the movies. Her boyish charm and scribbling always reminded me of how I would scuttle about my childhood home, a head full of stories and a heart that loved to argue. Moreover, my middle name being Josephine always made me believe that there was some kind of serendipitous connection between the character and me that transcended space and time. Even in her literary description, I find a reflection of myself:
“…Jo was very tall, thin, and brown, and reminded one of a colt; for she never seems to know what to do with her long limbs, which were very much in her way” (6)
I remember when I first read that and gasped, “Is Louisa describing me?”.
Further on, I witnessed Jo’s struggles and triumphs. Publishing her works, but not knowing which criticisms to take; grappling with the loss of childhood and the coming of adulthood; seeing the world as a beautiful and wide place where anything is possible but being hindered by expectations. However, these are topics that I will dive into another time. This “essay” is meant to be about writing.
It was only recently that I started yearning to write again. I had been searching for writing jobs, trying to do what any other member of capitalist society does; commodify my passion. Of course, this led to stress and mental fatigue, but the itch to write never cooled down. Reading Little Women in between the job applications and any moment of downtime I got, I felt the surge to write grow increasingly intense. So here I am, writing, with no hopes of grandeur and money; just for the pure fun of it.
I’m not sure what I want to make of this Substack blog. I’m not here to make money off this or become the next Shakespear or James Baldwin. I just needed to pour this out. I needed to release the build-up of pressure in my heart that cried out to be expressed. I needed to WRITE and to fulfill my own dreams, become my own Jo March and unlock my castle in the air.
“‘I’ve got the key to my castle in the air, but whether I can unlock the door remains to be seen’ observed Jo, mysteriously” (225)
With that, welcome to my blog. I hope you stay a while.
Regards,
W&W