Having a Dream

I’ve always written things.

Weather it was in diaries, journal’s, taking notes in school, writing thoughts or stories, I’ve loved writing. I think in a lot of ways it was an escape. Writing was a way to maybe make things better, or take my mind away from my insecurities. I had a huge inferiority complex growing up, and when I wrote, I could change myself and be someone else, if only for a little while. I usually only wrote for myself, and had hundreds of bits of paper rolling around in my life with little jotted notes on them. I collected them all up and put them in a manila folder and kept them in a box. Whenever I had an idea or thought, I jotted it down and put it into the box. One day shortly after I got a computer, I decided to go through them, and began typing them out and saving them in special folder in my documents. I literally have hundreds of stories that have been started but very few have been finished.

I started reading books about ten years ago on how to write novels, and the techniques and tips other writers. I was intimidated to say the least. I could never write like that. So I shelved my dream. I loved Mary Higgins Clark and the way she wrote, and thought I could never do that. I wasn’t that good. I struggled with sentences and punctuation and knew I could never be the type of writer I wanted to be. But the fire kept on glowing inside, and I continued to have inspiration and ideas.

~ L ~

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