This Writer's Journey

Let’s talk about writing.

I began writing when I was given an assignment in Spanish class in my first year of high school. Mrs. Virginia Griffin.  I still remember her name, because she is the first person to ever encourage me to write.

The story was partially in Spanish and written as most fourteen-year-old kids would write: like crap. Nevertheless it received an A+ and a moment aside with Mrs. Griffin, who suggested that I might just have a knack for storytelling.  I’d never even thought about it before that.

Oh, I had written stories and movies that played in my head all the time. If there was one thing I had an abundance of while growing up in the farmland of North Carolina, it was imagination. God knows if you didn’t you’d wind up in a heap o’ trouble, boy, let me tell you.  Of course, my imagination eventually got the better of me and landed me in hot water a time or nine.

Back to the writing bit.

After that first rough start, I began to scribble down other tales of adventure.  Looking back, I realize that my writings tended to lean a little to the dark side. When you have the family dynamics and lack of riches I experienced as a child, I suppose it was inevitable. (I never knew the name Pollyanna until I was in my twenties I kid you not.)

I recently came upon some writings of mine that date back to the mid-eighties. There is a hint of romance in much of those older pieces; something I would not truly experience until I was nearly thirty. There was always the edge of adventure, of living a greater life of danger or recklessness. I think the term is: vicarious.

My short stories improved over the years until I wrote something called The Moon From Heaven, a 26000-word piece about a vampire who had tired of her life and wanted to kill herself, but her ethics wouldn’t allow it. Yeah, I know. It was not the most inspired of ideas.  Still, once I had completed the first draft, I let a few friends read it and they all loved it. (I reread the original a few months ago… horrible.  Really horrible.) Their response gave me the confidence to go for more, to try and evolve the tale to greater heights.

This is what it takes, folks.  It takes years of writing and getting feedback and rewriting and doing it over and over again. Write. Write. Write. That’s what I’m telling you. And, I am not the only one.

It was in 2003 that I wrote a story that would change the course of my writing and put me on a path I had only ever dreamed about.  I was member of the writing forum, Arcane Artistry (now, LegendFire), and entered a contest that was based around a preset title. The title was Darkness Within Avenhale.

I had no idea what I was going to write for this contest. I just sat down one day and began pecking at the keys, letting the words take me wherever they wanted. What came out of those many days of light trance-writing was the initial story of a girl who was about to graduate high school, had an eidetic memory and only one friend to her name. She came to learn that her life had been built upon a lie. The truth of the matter was that the woman she knew as her mom was not really her true mother. The girl learned that she was, in fact, the child of an ancient Greek goddess: the goddess of night, Nyx.

In the end, my story won first place in the contest and I once again experienced the rush of hearing folks tell me that I should do more with the story.  I had only touched the tip of the iceberg, so to speak.

Now, I have written my first novel based upon those initial 3000 words:  The Weight Of Night.  In addition, Alexis’ tale has grown so greatly that this is the first in a series of planned novels that trace her evolution from pampered teenager to powerful demigod. It has become my passion, telling this girl’s tale. The characters have come to life.  They live and breathe for me. It’s absolutely awesome.

When we, as writers, go through our journey (and it’s certainly different for each of us) we learn so much more about ourselves via the characters we create.  We breathe the very life into them so that they can then lead us on their journey.  We become observers and tag-alongs.  We let them determine their path.  We only lend a hand when they need it.

My journey began with a Spanish class assignment that put me on the path that led me to follow my dream. Thirty-some-odd years later, I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life.

So, what was your catalyst? Was there someone who helped put you on your path?

Are you living your dream? Are you even pursuing it?

Are you happy?