How did you start writing?

Writing has always been an enigma to me. It was a force that I couldn’t quite grasp for most of my life. Certainly I could write, I wrote all the time. But the thought of writing an entire story was daunting. This is the same thoughts a lot of people have. For those who are hesitating in writing their first book, I say write it. Don’t think about it, don’t plan it, don’t do anything but sit down and write. It doesn’t matter if you finish it. It doesn’t even matter if the story is good. It just matters that you finished it.

I started writing when I was very young. If I remember correctly, the first book I ever started to write was about a unicorn, a woman who could fly, and a love story. I’m not certain how a love story would work with a unicorn, but that was what I wanted. I never finished this story for the obvious reasons, but it was then that I found I enjoyed writing.

The more years that passed, the more I became aware that I needed money to exist. We all need money to exist. The idea of becoming an author that made money solely from that was… Well. Unattainable. It still is. I have a regular 9-5 job and write in my spare time. At the time, I was terrified that I would never be able to live off of something that I loved.

So I went into art.


For a few years my life swirled around what I wanted to do. Did I want to film stories that other people had created? I had a difficult time finishing stories, so maybe I needed to bring other stories to the screen. Did I want to creature characters? I delved into the world of prosthetic design and bodypainting. I still do these in my spare time. Did I want nothing to do with either of these, and give up on childish dreams?

In the end, I realized that I wanted to write. More than anything else in the world I wanted to write. I created stories and characters in my head constantly. Every place that I went, every person that I met, filtered into potential characters and plot lines. When you have a brain like that, eventually you stop fighting it.

For all of those that want to write, please do so. I thought for a very long time that whatever story I came up with wouldn’t be good enough. That no one would want to read what I had to write, or that no one would understand the words that I was trying to push out of my brain. I wasn’t and am not good at explaining most things. So I wouldn’t be surprised if a book I wrote just didn’t make sense. These were the excuses I gave myself to feed the fear inside of me that stories I came up with wouldn’t be good.

To all those that have the same thoughts, please squash them like a bug. Don’t deprive the world of the stories you have to tell. If one person likes your tale, then that was one person you managed to reach. That is worth all the hours of writing, the painful worries of whether your characters are believable, the editing, the cover art, the money. The story you have to tell is important. No matter what it is.

Writing is a balm to the soul. A cure for many afflictions. Hope. Dreams. Love. Life. You owe it to yourself to breathe life into the characters of your mind.

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