Writing is one of those higher powers which grabs you by the ears and suckers you in until you have no choice but to succumb to its pull. In April of 2009, I had an idea. The idea remained with me throughout the month and, soon, May had arrived. Of course I’d chatted with my friend about my thoughts. She told me that, being me, I hadn’t surprised her in the slightest. The next person I shared them with was my sister. Between the two of them, they encouraged me to catalogue the swirling images within my head onto paper (yes, I began the old-fashioned way), and they awaited my finished product. Two weeks later came the birth of my first novel.
However, the bug had well and truly sank its teeth into me and refused to open its jaws for release. So along came book number two: a sequel. Once again, my fanbase of two tapped their fingers as they awaited its reveal. “It’s brilliant,” they told me. “Even better than the first.”
Their words of praise spurred me on until a third in the series had been created. I could see it with my own eyes, as well as through their feedback: my writing improved the more I wrote. Book three turned out to be another hit.
In a need to visit new characters I began a tale afresh. Book four became my baby, the first piece I’d written where I thought, ‘Yes, I’ve cracked it.’ It held more pages, more characters, more settings, more excitement, just … more. I fell in love with it. So did my readers. Unable to tear myself from these new characters which had begun to take permanent residency inside my head, I gave my fourth novel a sequel, also–another improvement.
With a sixth idea for a new novel and new characters I began over. However, I wrote only the opening chapters before I paused to ponder. Placing my initial work beside my latest allowed me to view just how much I’d improved with time, with practice, with dedication. For the first time I felt discontent with my earliest novel. Determined to bring it to the same standards, I rewrote it. Of course, I now plan to do this for all of my novels; and writing short stories in between retains my sanity throughout. The process has already begun. I truly hope, in time, I will have the opportunity to share them with you.
So why do I write? Well … because I scarcely know how to live without doing so any longer. Writing is a part of who I am.