Just about 10 years ago, I began writing a novel.
The process was very organic for me: Pen to paper, notebook after notebook, hand cramp after hand cramp – just as it was with every little story I’d scribble down as a kid.
Then, I got my very first laptop the following year when I went back to school and took everything that was in those now-dog-eared notebooks and typed them up, editing along the way.
That story grew and grew and grew as I worked on it constantly – until I finally got a full-time writing job, which I put all my creativity toward. Every so often, I’d return to my “friends,” if you will, and along the way, some new novel idea would occupy me, but I’d always stop visiting or returning its call, so to speak.
As you might know if you’re a regular reader, one of my biggest 2012 resolutions is to write more for myself, aiming to do so every. single. day. We’re now five-plus months in, and that resolution is pretty successful for me, but still, I’m feeling a bit unfulfilled.
This week, after a particularly inspiring conversation with the fella, I decided to finally cut the bullshit and pick one of my in-the-works novels and do something I should have done years ago: Focus on it. Make something out of it. Write it.
And that’s just what I intend to do starting today – and I’m going to be writing about my process and progress, plus sharing some (but not too much) of the story on this here blog.
I’ve decided to give myself the goal of five pages a day – shooting for five days a week (probably Sunday-Thursday, since our weekends are just way too chaotic).
I’m excited. Ready. Nervous – though that seems silly considering that my whole day job revolves around people reading and seeing the words that I write. I guess it’s just that, to me, novel writings just seems so much more personal. Whatever, I’ll get over it because since I was a wee lass, being a novel writer has been my biggest dream.
And it’s time I make that dream a reality.
After all, the stars must be aligned because I got this fortune last night: