Is It A Gift?

Thanks to my Senegal experiences, the readership of this blog increased by a significant amount. Many of you have been encouraging, saying you liked my writing and that I have a gift for it. For a number of years, people from my dad to my English teachers have been telling me I have a knack for the written. But I wonder if it's true.

Excuse the immodesty here, but I do acknowledge that I'm able to write well. But still I wonder.

I was an early and avid reader. I devoured books, and given the chance, I'd take reading over recess just about any day. I liked spelling and alphabetizing things. I was fascinated by words - their origins, their alternate meanings, and other languages. And this fed my love of writing. I've been keeping a journal for as long as I can remember, back to the days when the most important thing there was to write was the latest 1st grade birthday party. I went to young author's conferences and read books like "How To Be The Greatest Writer In The World", taking each exercise in the book seriously. In high school, my friends and I would pull out things we'd been writing lately and swap, reading through each other's work, asking questions, offering critiques (over lunch at McDonald's, no less!). Throughout college, I've been one of the go-to girls when it comes for someone to help look over a paper. And I've gotten the chance to dabble in book editing.

But it all begs the question, do I write because I'm a good writer, or am I a good writer because I write? I've really worked on my writing - doing workshops, reading books on writing, listening to authors, and of course just reading a lot. Is it still a gift if I've worked so much on it?

One idea that I have is that I'm not a gifted writer, but that I was given the desire to learn about words and writing and all related things. But who knows?