The Story of How I Got Started
Chapter 1:
One of the first things I ever remember writing was a
couplet poem in elementary school. It was around Halloween, and I came up with various
couplets all about vampires, ghosts, werewolves, and witches. It was the first
time I remember a teacher praising me for something I wrote. I wish I still had
it.
I liked the feeling I got from stringing words together, so
I started doing more of it. I abandoned poetry for short stories. I remember
writing a story about a Canadian mongoose who was also a detective, though I
can’t tell you any details.
Chapter 2:
As I got older, in high school, I wrote notebooks full of
terrible fiction stories. I would sit in class and write stories instead of
notes. All of them were awful, but I kept on writing. I went to college for
creative writing, and then…something happened.
In all the messaging about gaining employment and having a
practical career where I would make money and have health insurance, I got
scared that I wasn’t good enough. So I stopped writing for a while.
Chapter 3:
It wasn’t until much later that I picked up a metaphorical
pen again. I proposed a travel column to a small magazine and was shocked when
they accepted it. I did that for a while, and I don’t remember why I stopped. I
discovered LiveJournal around the same time and used it as a diary and wrote many
terrible rants and personal confessions there before moving to a more
traditional blog format.
I never forgot that I wanted to write fiction. I just wasn’t
sure I knew how anymore. When I finally got the courage to quit my 9-5 job, I
jumped with both feet into the world of freelance content creation. That’s what
I do now, and I love every second of it.
Chapter 4:
But in the last several years, I got back to writing
fiction. I always thought of myself as a fantasy or science fiction writer. But
I sat down to work on a new project, and a women’s fiction book poured out of
me onto the pages. That’s the manuscript I’m trying to get published now.
And once I allowed myself to get out of the box, I found I
had more stories to tell. I am almost done with a second manuscript and have a
third story outlined.
Sometimes I wonder if I hadn’t given up writing when I was
younger. Would I be further ahead now? Would I already be published? But then,
would any of these other aspects of my life have happened? There’s no way to
know.
But I am glad I’m writing again. For you and for me.
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