I've always loved reading. Getting lost in the adventurous tales of peril, whether it be physical or emotional. From the depths of Mordor to the crazy donkey-chasing Aunt Betsey in David Copperfield, I love them all. The lessons, the struggles. I was perfectly satisfied losing myself in them, until one bright shining day, Ben, my devoted 6'5" cheerleader without pom-poms, suggested: "Why don't you try writing?" "Me?" I gasp. "Remember I do numbers and Greek letters, not words." But there sat that obnoxious idea, forcing every other idea out.
Scenes began to flicker in my mind. Scenes of people I didn't know, places I'd never seen. I became curious. Curiosity turned obsessive. Obsessive turned to the computer. And ideas spewed forth.
It is as an adult that I've discovered a love (and obsession) for writing. Whether anything comes of it, or it remains simply a passion of mine, remains to be determined. In the meantime, I fight with my computer. Fight after drag out fight. Edit after harrowing edit. (Me and the delete key are still coming to terms.) There are many of you--many supportive, encouraging, amazing people--that have helped me tremendously as I embark on this unique endeavor. Reading draft...after draft (Ben, you're amazing). Giving honest feedback so that I may learn how to create a great story. Thank you for giving me hours and hours of your undivided attention, reading the pages I hand to you, believing in me through the process--I feel blessed to have so many people near, genuinely excited, helpful, and supportive.
I'm still working (almost everyday) on that story some of you have read. After some soul-searching and reading books on writing, I'm on re-write number 4 and draft number 10,000 (or so it feels). There's much work to be done, but I'll let you know when I reach my next stage: submission (shaking).
It's been 1.5 years now. The journey is incredible in ways I never would've imagined, and I'm grateful to all of you for keeping me on it! I couldn't do it without you.