I have wanted to write a book for as long as I can remember. I was a voracious reader as a child. I never wanted to go outside and play like the other kids. I only wanted to read, read, read. I would read the same books over and over, never getting bored of them and always finding new things I hadn’t the first time.
Reading was really the only thing that mattered to me as a child, so much so that my mom used to ground me from reading when I got into trouble. It was the only real way to punish me. As I progressed through school, my love of reading turned into a love of writing. I loved to write. I just knew that when I grew up I was either going to be a singer/songwriter or an author. I began to dabble in poetry in high school, pouring out my teenage angst in rhyming couplets. When we studied Shakespeare, I turned my poems into sonnets. I was the kid in school who inwardly cheered when we were given an essay test.
After high school, I managed to land a job at a small newspaper in my town. I had not gone to college, but I showed some writing samples which were apparently enough to get the job. I worked as a Staff Writer, writing feature stories and some press releases. I even got to publish a couple of my short stories. It was the best job I ever had.
Once I had my children, I put my writing on the back burner. It wasn’t that I didn’t love it anymore, but I had my precious children who needed all of my time. I knew that there would come a day when it was time to pick up my pen again, so I just enjoyed every moment of fully devoting myself to my little ones.
My kids are getting older now, and they have more interests of their own. They don’t require Mama’s undivided attention as they used to. I began to combine my interests in genealogy and writing into co-writing the blog, www.resurrectingroots.com with my best friend. It was the impetus which started the words flowing again. I loved how I felt when I completed a piece, and it lit a fire under me. I began applying for freelance writing projects, and landing some. It was great to be writing again.
There was that nagging voice in the back of my mind that kept reminding me of my goal of book writing. I had always known that I would start the process of my book someday, but I decided that now was as good a time as any. I didn’t know where to start. I thought about ideas, tried to play them through in my head, and ended up going to the next one. I finally hit on a story idea where I could see a full plot, characters, and drama. A complete story began to form in my mind. I decided to plot out a chapter by chapter summary so I always knew where to go next. Then I started writing, and that summary changed, and continues to change every time I write. I know that my outline is just a general idea, and the book takes me where it wants to go.
Writing a full-length novel is not for the faint of heart. It can seem like a daunting task some days. I am almost halfway through now, though, and I am still enjoying the process, so I know I’m going in the right direction. I still have my childhood goal of being an author, and I am determined to write my story.