Somewhere along the lines I figured I needed to do this. If I'm going to be a serious writer with serious dreams, serious fans, and serious bills, I better find a way to get on with it. Just start. That's all I have to do...just begin. So, 8 months ago, I did just that. Not that I hadn't tossed it around numerous times over the years, but for some reason it seemed time. For some reason it seemed right. I pulled out the laptop, opened Word, and wrote the first sentence.
It was liberating.
3 and a half months later, I had 93,000 words stored on the hard drive and an excitement that was palpable. My first manuscript. It consumed me. I had no idea what I was doing and I didn't really care. I only knew that I had to get it out. Once it started, there was no stopping it. It didn't matter if I had to use my breaks at work. Didn't matter if I found myself waking in the middle of the night, the story rattling around in my head, begging me to put more of it down on paper. Didn't matter that the grass went un-mowed or the pool turned green, whenever I had the chance, I wrote.
It was pure joy. Some days I giggled, some days I cried, and some days I just smiled. I was amazed at the process and giddy at how the story took on a life of its own. It wrote itself.
I'm not sure what I will put in this space, not sure how often I'll visit, but I am sure that whenever I do, I will not be too serious. Who wants to be a serious writer with serious fans and serious bills? It's too much fun. I only hope I can keep it that way.
Richard Charles Hale