As I was growing up, I was always the outsider. I was the weird one in class. It felt like no matter where I was, I was no one. Eventually, I accepted who I was, but no one liked me. And I never knew why. Was there something wrong with me? Did I have some kind of disease? Was there something about me that is contagious?
I didn’t care, my happiness was the number one thing. Something was missing though, and I still didn’t know what it was.
It could be anything, but I knew that in my writing classes, that was where I shined the most.
I was a part of the High School Magazine, I was in charge of writing out the articles and making sure I had everything good to go. I even interviewed the new store owners that opened up a Retail store in our current mall. Was one of my best works.
I still tried to make sure everything was up to par, but I couldn’t quite nail the coffin. I couldn’t get the same result anymore, but that’s okay, it was a fun ride.
But here is where I figured that writing is my hobby. I loved to write, it didn’t matter what it was.
Whenever I felt down, and out of touch, I would pull out my phone, and start a new passage. Or even a short poem.
Sometimes, I would write some Fanfiction to pass the time. A lot of the fiction was quite saucy if you know what I mean. *wink wink*
It wasn’t enough. But I did always have colours in my head. So I applied them some more. And I eventually started to write my book series, but I got discouraged and put it on a three-year hiatus. No matter what I did, I couldn’t quite move on from the first few chapters of the book. It felt like I would never get the book done. It was heartbreaking really… I had high hopes for it.
That is…. Until the pandemic hit.
When the Pandemic hit, I was writing vigorously, much more than I was before. I wrote short story after short story, but not my main franchise that I had in my head since I was just 16-years-old. But I needed this! I was growing my mind with each and every story I wrote.
I finally decided to give my book a try, to start writing in it last year, but I was still wasn’t so sure. I was telling my friends and family about it, they all said the same thing.
“Go for it. You can do it.”
And I did.
The more words that flew out of my mind.
The more pictures danced on my fingers.
The more songs that sang on my brain waves.
The more I loved it. And I still love it.
And now, I am on my second novel in the franchise, waiting to work on the first novel to edit it once again.
I am on the brink of being a published author, and I can’t wait for the world to see my soul.
Writing my books is my getaway. Writing books is my portal to another world.
I am in a black hole that I never want to escape.
This is the true me.
And nothing can stop me now that I have wings.
I never knew I needed this. It’s like I was revived from a slumber I never knew I was under.
If I can do something over again, it would be staying committed to writing my first book because by now, it would be published.
But not all authors are the same. Not all humans walk the same path.
An adventure is amazing, but there’s nothing quite like the journey itself.
About the Creator
I always felt like there were colours all around my head, I needed a way to put them down into paper. Brain going 1000 mi per second, I can put down my thoughts with ease. With several books on the horizon, my future seems bright again.