Five
Girl Meets Boy
I began seriously writing when I was 16.
It all started when a friend of the family loaned an electric typewriter to my older brother. He needed it for schoolwork and I don't think we had a printer for our computer (a TI 99-4A). One evening I sat at that typewriter to write something only because I thought it would be cool to feel the keys under my fingers and hear the noise of the metal on paper. You know? That heavy sound a typewriter makes when the metal contacts the roller under the paper? I'd always loved that sound.
So I sat down at the typewriter and began typing. My young adult fiction series was born! It was strange how suddenly these characters were given unique personalities. As I wrote them down, it was as if I had known these characters all my life. They were my best friends.
As I made my way through high school and college these 'friends' experienced my pain and aggravation as if they were real. My mom believes that these characters were a great help in walking me through the different hard times of my life. I was able to work things out in my head using them. They helped me vent my anger and loneliness. They were an outlet for my frustration and misery.
This young adult fiction series has since blossomed into 15 books, and I'm still counting. I have a tendency of getting lazy and telling what happens instead of showing it - that's a no-no, I've been told - but I still have great fun exploring my younger side and sharing it with others.
In my later college years I began getting more and more book ideas for adult books instead of kids books. The first book idea was 'Daddy's Girl'. When the idea first presented itself I was at a potluck of some kind and luckily had some paper available to me for the basic outline. The major plot has changed since then, but it's basically the same... Well, no, it's not the same. In fact, I plan on digging out the previous outline and seeing about writing it. The plot is different enough that I could.
At this same potluck I received an idea for some comic book characters (special powers and everything), but nothing ever came of that. I had a couple strange dreams that I incorporated into my fantasy fiction series The Broken, with Resurrected Honor being the first. This all goes to show you that a writer must always be prepared. We never know when that perfect storyline will strike us, so it's always best to have a notepad and pencil/pen to jot ideas, notes, dialogue. It may just come in handy one day.
I used to meet with another young and talented writer by the name of Tara for years. We fell out of touch when I moved out on my own. She was the inspiration for the novel The Myth of Reality. Why? Because she writes spectacular spy/PI/mystery genre novels and I was determined to prove that I could do it just as well as she could. It was harder than I ever thought it would be, but it was worth the struggle. My writing ability grew because of that, and is definitely a perfect example of using difficulties and obstacles as steps toward improving our talent. If a writing project is particularly challenging, go for it! Talk to people. Press onward. Brainstorm. But never ever give up. The struggle will lead to an immense blessing afterward.
My writing has always been a steady passion in my life. Some might say it's been a blessing because of how much I have learned about myself. Unfortunately, because I had a tendency of experiencing life through my characters, I have suffered from a lack of relationships. I'm not saying that I haven't enjoyed the adventures I have experienced through my writing. I only wish I could have experienced some of them in person while growing. Such as: my first kiss, my first date, my first dance, and things like that. I was painfully shy through high school and that was why I lived through my characters. To me, it was safer.
I lowered my hands into my lap as I stared at the last collection of sentences. Safer. I cleared my throat and pulled the paper from the typewriter, filing it away with the others. Safer? I pushed it aside and stood, snapping my fingers softly for Ralph. He scurried to his feet from where he'd laid at the side of my desk and loped to the door. There he patiently sat until I had gathered my jacket and hiking pack. I filled my water bottle and then headed out, Shade jogging joyously ahead of me.
Me? I felt a little distracted and distant. It wasn't like me at all. Usually my mind went a million miles a minute on a storyline or a plot twist or a conflict, or even just a little snatch of dialogue. Not last night. Not this morning. It was like living in a cottonball.
I released a deep breath and halted. Ralph blinked up at me as he sat on his haunches. "Ralph, what's the matter with me?"
He grumbled and growled, stretching his legs out in front of him and then sitting up to lick his chops.
"Really? You think I'm just hungry." I pushed my lips to one side. "Well... I didn't have breakfast." I glanced over my shoulder toward the cabin, and then back to Ralph. "You think your papa would mind if we paid him a visit? After all, I did say that I'd come over. I could make my infamous omelet."
Ralph opened his mouth and smiled, tongue protruding slightly.
I nodded. "Okay. Come on. Let's grab some things and then hike on over."
And that was such a... unique concept. My time in the outskirts of Sumter had been very solitary. Very solitary. Maybe I should tell him some of the stories the kids tell?
(In process, revisions, movings, etc)