The Start

This week we started the second half of the year! I am hoping that many of you have picked up some energy, and have begun to once again work towards your goals and dreams. Over the years I have given you countless “ra-ra” posts about going out there, and knocking down obstacles and achieving your dreams. So instead of rehashing much of those posts, I wanted to get a bit more personal. I wanted to chat about how I create, what makes me write, and some of the obstacles I have had to overcome along the way. My hope is not that you walk away thinking how great I am (I’m not) but rather that you would come away inspired. Ready to take on the world! If I can do it, so can you!

As a young child, I loved to draw, to just let my imagination spill onto the page. I would spend rainy afternoons drawing pictures of monsters and planes and comics, content and happy. I wanted to grow up and be an artist. I was quickly dissuaded from that idea during my education, but I still love drawing even today.
Why do I mention this? I was not born a writer. All throughout my education there were two subjects I excelled in; Art and Science. My English grades were almost as atrocious as my Math grades! I was also an avid reader. I would comb the shelves of my local library, looking for interesting titles to read. The stories I found were full of wonder and imagination, they transported me away to far away places or magical lands. With each turn of the page I was participating in a grand adventure.

While I enjoyed reading I never really thought I could write stories like the ones I read growing up. My English teachers would no doubt agree. I was taught on the cusp of the computer generation. I grew up without Word processing as we know it today. There was no Spell Check, no Grammarly to highlight the mistakes you made. If I didn’t know how to spell a word I had to look it up in a dictionary. Things got easier towards the end of High School for me, by then computers had begun cropping up in our classrooms and homes. Still, I must have missed the part of my education that taught us how to write. I got by, somehow.

My writing career, as it were, began late at night in Georgia. I was far from the home I grew up in, trying to build something of a life. I was hanging out with a friend at a local restaurant after our late shift delivering pizza. Over drinks, we usually talked about dreams and I would share the latest crazy idea I had for a movie, or a play, or a show on TV. He would always entertain my ideas and tell me to write them down. On this particular night, I told him of a story I was dreaming up, a world full of magic, and the people and events that shaped it. I went on for hours. He gave me the usual “You should really write this stuff down.” I laughed it off as usual, “Sure, someone could probably make a good story out of that.” That’s when my friend straightened his back and leaned forward, his smile gone. He pointed his finger at me “No, I mean you need to write this. Now. I want to read that.”

I didn’t become a writer because of any special talent I had for words. I didn’t excel in my studies, or win any competitions, or participate in those writing workshops advertised online. I didn’t become a writer for fame, or for money. I became a writer because someone believed in me. Because someone wouldn’t let me just laugh it off as another crazy dream. Because someone wanted to actually read my story.

The story I wrote that night was a sloppy mess but it was a start. Sometimes that is all we need. Someone to cheer us on and the courage to start. It wasn’t easy. I don’t know if our dreams ever start off as easy. In no way did I ever think I had what it took to become who I am today. I had to fight through that self-doubt. I wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote. With each new paragraph, I was learning. With each newly completed project, I grew. I dreamed bigger and bigger until I found that there was no limit to what I could achieve but myself. Today I still let my imagination spill onto the page, just like when I was a kid. The only difference is that today, I let my words do the painting.

2 thoughts on “The Start

  1. Yes, you do write interesting and intriguing books but I still love your drawings. I hope you can do some of the illustrations in your own books.

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