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At eleven years old I decided I was going to write a novel. I had seen a made for T.V. movie that was an adaptation of a book, and for some reason that triggered the desire to create books of my own. I waited till night, and then in my room sat on my bed with a several sheets of paper and a pencil. I began to write a romantic thriller; not having any experience with romance or thrilling situations (or much life experience at all) I struggled to get very far. I remember I kept it in the top drawer of my dresser and would take it out at night to work on it (I also remember it was winter as I would drink hot chocolate with candy canes whilst writing). Unfortunately, life as an eleven-year-old got in the way and the novel faded from my thoughts, but the seed had been planted.
In my teen years I decided I wasn’t very good at writing anything of length or that required dialogue, so I started writing poetry. I enjoyed it, but it didn’t fulfill me, and the desire to write stories was still percolating in my mind. When I was seventeen I was given a writing assignment in a history class. I don’t remember what the assignment was exactly, but I know I chose to write a short story called Murder on the Titanic. It was about a female detective who was aboard the Titanic and was investigating a murder before the ship sank. I wish I still had that story. It was the first thing I wrote that I completed, and I think it is what sealed my fate. That story was the first writing assignment that I received glowing praise on and put the thought in my head that I might actually be good at writing.
By the time I got to university I was more intrigued by the idea of writing than I ever had been in the past. After my first year I decided to take a creative writing course, and I am so thankful I did. It showed me how fun writing could be when I was writing something I was passionate about. During that same year I developed the idea for a YA fantasy novel about a faery princess from another realm that was stolen and taken to the human realm. She finds herself back in the faery realm on her eighteenth birthday and sets out on a quest to find out who she is and save her kingdom. I managed to write two or three chapters before I got stuck again. The problem was I still lacked confidence in my ability to write dialogue and tell the story beyond a few pages, not to mention I didn’t have much to write about. My head was full of other people’s ideas – books I’d read that had so permeated my mind they were what I was trying to recreate. Once again, I set the book aside.
Years went by and I didn’t write much. I had convinced myself that it was just a silly childish dream. Then one day I opened the folder that held that YA fantasy novel and started reading it and reworking it. My mind was excited at the thought of writing again, but still wasn’t convinced that was the story to focus on, so I set it aside again.
Several more years passed, and I had all but given up on writing; then an amazing thing happened. I had a little elf of my own. He was wonderful and inspiring, and exhausting and difficult. I began to write down my experiences in motherhood and thought “Maybe I’ll publish this”. I got through one chapter (if that) and decided that non-fiction wasn’t for me. Yet again I put the idea aside, only this time it wouldn’t stay quiet. It kept calling to me, begging me not to give up on it. Finally, in the spring of 2017 I thought “what the hell, I’ll give it a go” and started writing Reflection of Me. It flowed from my fingers with such ease that I knew I had finally found my calling. After it was finished I debated just packing it away like all my other attempts. I was worried people would think it was autobiographical, or that they would just hate it – but it wouldn’t let me pack it away. My mind wouldn’t rest until I had done something with it so at the age of thirty-five I hit publish on the Amazon KDP website, and I became an author.
After Reflection of Me, I had the idea for Vixens’ Diner and began writing. With in days of starting that novel I had already thought of four more novels to write, and as of now I have six novels that are all in planning stages, and ten (or more) that are in the thought stage just waiting for me to write them down. I know now that I have finally found what I am meant to be doing and that, as long as the ideas keep coming, I will continue to write for years to come. Finally, the dreams of that eleven-year-old girl have been realized. I am an author.
In some ways, I am still very much that little eleven-year-old girl; I still sit in my bed, snuggled up with a drink at hand (usually a cup of tea). The method with which I write my have changed, but the passion is the same and my determination to succeed is even greater than that little girl could have ever imagined.