My History in Writing
I have loved to write since I can remember. I have always had random monologues that happen in my head. I would have so many books, or so many parts of books if my thoughts could magically appear on paper. Something that in reality, people—including myself—wouldn’t actually want.
Growing up I would write little stories, but it was primarily school work that I wrote. While my grammar and spelling have always been a mess, teachers did take note that I had a knack for writing itself. Even if it was just BSing my way through papers.
I wrote one of my first real books in high school—something I worked on again when I was twenty—but as life got busy, it got packed away and forgotten. That is, until earlier this year when I was cleaning out my basement—a discovery that was both cool and horrifying at the same time. I am happy to report my grammar and spelling have improved at least a little bit since then.
When I became a manager at my work at twenty-one, I put all of my energy into my job. This left little time and zero creative energy left for any hobbies. When I turned twenty-five and had my first son, I focused my energy on another section of my life and then again at twenty-eight when I had my second son.
In November 2019, after doing a lot of traveling for work, I decided I needed to do something for myself and finally listened to my husband who had suggested that I get back into a hobby. I first tried to rediscover my love of painting. But while I did enjoy it, I felt it wasn’t what I was searching for as an outlet.
In December 2019, I remember turning off the radio in the car and let the monologues run rampant in my mind and see what I got out of it. I ended up pulling over and writing it all down because I loved it so much. The excitement I felt putting pen to paper was what I had been missing. I felt this drive in me, this confidence in what I was doing that I hadn’t felt in a long time. I, by no means, want to take away from the satisfaction I get from my life with my husband and two boys, but I knew I needed more, and this was the more I had needed.
Whether 100 people read my books, or 100,000, I love to create them. I derive happiness and a sense of pride in what I accomplish, so my success has already been reached just by having the book completed and, soon, printed and in my hands.