I’m not one of those writers that has a wondrous and inspirational or tragic and moving story about how they came to write. Mine is simple… It began when I was a young girl with a big dream, vast imagination, pen and paper.
There are many different ways that writers embark on their journey; mine began when I was eight. I could say that my passion for writing drove me to pick up my pen for the first time, but that wasn’t the case, I was merely experimenting with words. In a flurry full of excitement I decided to write a book. I was yet to understand the art of titles and so I found myself left with “Standing In The Night” and so the journey and book began.
Yes, you have to guess half of the words because the spelling is that bad.
Yes, you have probably heard the story a million thousand times before.
Yes, the entire book is only 4 pages long.
Yes, the wording size varies constantly and
yes, the tense changes three times within only four pages but I can assure you, it was the most exciting start to writing I could have chosen for myself.
“Standing In The Night” is a story about a seven year old girl named Ashly who wakes up one night and hears a mysterious voice calling to her from the nearby forest. Very typically Ashly decides to listen to this voice and follows it into the forest, but only after she has packed, and I quote from the book, “a map, two torches, compass, rucksack, wood, five bottles of water, a stick of meat, a frying pan and maches” -I assume that I meant matches but you can never be too sure- Ashly then makes her way deep into the forest. At some point this voice gets a body and is a fifteen year old boy who then transforms Ashly into a fifteen year old too. Quite abruptly the book then ends when Ashly is told she is a magical being and that she should “fight evil, go home, enjoy your life and Be Safe. THE END.”
It is strange for little girls to follow mysterious voices without fear and even more strange that a seven year old has wood, frying pans and sticks of meat in their bedroom but that’s where my writing adventure started.
Even after I realised that “Standing In The Night” wasn’t as great as I had hoped it would be. I didn’t stop writing. Writing was always there, when I needed it and even when I didn’t. Was it fun or a passion? I didn’t know at the time, but I kept writing. I just wasn’t doing it daily…yet.
At age eleven I wrote the next piece of writing that greatly influenced me. I began writing a story at a music festival, it started off as a game to pass time. My mom, dad and I would each write a page of the story and then pass it on to the next person. It was challenging but exhilarating and although the details of the actual story are a little blurry I will never forget the pleasure I felt sharing my writing passion with family.
Soon after my music festival experience I was writing about all things supernatural, witches and vampires were my main focus. That too was a superb experience of weak grammar and characterisation. My characters were described by their eyes and hair only, very simple but dreadfully boring to read.
Sometime while writing these stories I began to realise that I would rather spend my time writing than watching television or playing outside. It seemed odd to me that my friends would spend hours and hours of their lives in front of TV screens or kicking a ball around outside. Reading and writing in general was so much more entertaining, for me anyway…so I kept at it, writing down everything and anything.
I was and am continuously given odd looks when people see me reading my wondrously large books or writing pages and pages of notes but frankly I didn’t care, I was on a journey…
I found myself one winter morning sitting in front of a blank sheet of paper; pen in hand and suddenly an idea in mind. I had taken all my “epic” writing adventures and marked them down as experience but on that winter day, I decided to use them. I wanted to write a book. No, I needed to.
Ideas formed and I found that it was a new and interesting story, one that hadn’t been told before. Characters were born, who now had more than just eyes and hair to give them life. I asked for advice from people as to what intrigued them and kept them entertained. I was having fun doing it, some of the most fun I had ever experienced and that’s when it hit me hard, I was a writer.
Not a day passes that I don’t write. My passion has been discovered and I know, deep down that this is where I belong, with a blank page in front of me to fill with words.
My journey has been exciting to say the least. I have learnt so much and continue to learn daily. My days are always fun and exciting whether it means me adding more to my exhilarating book, writing a post on my blog, attending book fairs, meeting authors and having hour long discussions about writing with other avid writers. Every day, I add a chapter to the never ending story of my writing journey.
Yours within the Bookworm Revolution,