I was a self-published author once… in middle school. I wrote a book on my desktop computer in my bedroom and printed a copy for each of my friends to read. The story is so embarrassing (and brilliant) that I am actually embarrassed to tell you what it’s about, but I’m also a bit proud so I’ll go ahead.
The plot circulated around the members of my favorite band falling in love with my friends and I.
Yes. That happened.
Needless to say, my novel was a smash hit in my social circle. My friends begged me to write more and more until the book went past the 50-page mark and I had exhausted the simplistic plot so much that I strongly considered making my book into a series. I also have some vague memories of my mother getting pretty cranky about how quickly my printer ink was running out. I daftly tried to convince her that I was just doing a lot of school work.
I might have peaked as a writer in the 7th grade though. My college thesis barely hit 40 pages and I can safely say that none of my peers were trying to bribe me to write them into my thesis as a character. Twelve years and a lot of life experience later, I am finally ready to start writing my first full-length novel. I’d like to think that I’ve aged nicely and will still have the compelling touch that I embraced so fully at the age of 13.
I’ve avoided starting my book for a long time, due to a severe amount of insecurity about my writing that I developed during my years as a journalism student in college. I became a very good writer, but I also learned that editors will destroy you. They will read your writing and they will kill it.
“Your writing is not your baby,” my professor would say. “You can’t let it be, because people will kill your baby. They will tear it apart and destroy it and you will have to remake it over and over and over. Do not get emotionally attached to your writing, or you’ll hate being a writer,” she would warn us.
It was some of the best advice I have ever received, but it also kept me from following this dream of mine until I was good and ready – and well, to be honest, I’m not good and ready, but I have realized I probably never will be. I am going to put myself out there though and just do it.
The worst-case scenario is that an editor doesn’t even glance at it and I simply print a couple copies and give it to all of my friends again. Ha! So for my goal of the month, I am going to begin the planning and writing stages of making my very own novel. My true goal is to not give up on this project when it gets hard though.
My goal of the month for April was to simply try and catch up in a few areas of my life. I did a decent job, all things considered. The first third of this year has been a doozy, but I haven’t come to expect anything less after the past 2.5 years of my life have been a doozy. I got way overloaded with work and did a good job of trying to catch up in April. I still have a long way to go, but I am ready to knock the ball out of the park.
April was a great month because I gave myself some emotional space to continue my process of healing, but I also began to push back on myself and was able to get the ball rolling. Sometimes all you need is to push back a little and it’s all downhill from there.
I want to continue working long days, forcing myself to focus even when it’s hard and getting some things off my plate so I can bring about some change in my life.
April was a good successful month though!