Thursday, 22 September 2011

Suddenly, I needed to write.

An entry by Peggy in her blog inspired me to make this post.
How old was I when knew I wanted to be a writer?
From an early age, I always had the imagination to come up with some really off beat ideas, but being a typical boy, I didn’t have the patience.  There was always far too much going inside my head, that I couldn’t get it down on paper quick enough.  My mind would go streaming ahead, and re-visiting what had already whizzed past in a flash, so that I could get it written, was too much effort.  Writing at school was too much like hard work.  It wasn’t for me.
The only thing that I did write creatively, from the age of 14 was letters.  I had a couple of pen friends the other side of the country, and I used to write some very imaginative yarns to amuse them.  It never occurred to me that I could write anything with more depth.
A little over ten years after I had left school, I had a friend who went to Hong Kong.  I used to write her letters filled with anything that popped into my head.  I use to show friends before I popped it in the post, so that I could gauge the reaction.  Two of my friends reckoned that I should write a book. (They were married, so I think that it was really only one of them.)   I didn’t take them seriously for quite a time, there was no way that I could come up with anything as clever as the books lining the shelves in the shops, even though they mentioned it at quite regular intervals.
Not long after this, I woke up one morning with a full book in my head.  I had dreamt the whole plot, from start to finish.  That day I bought myself a notepad, and started writing.  I remember being surprised at how easy the story flowed, and that it just seemed to be sitting there waiting to be put onto paper.
I did try to get it published, but I knew so little about the whole publishing industry, that there was no realistic chance of ever seeing it in print.  It took me another ten years before I could think up a suitable plot for a second book. 
Now, I can’t stop finding plots and ideas for books.  I now have eight fully formed ideas waiting to be written, and at least another half a dozen that I have ideas for, that are waiting for their turn to come out into the light.
So, there you have it.  I was just turned thirty.   Probably a late developer, but I’m trying to make up for lost time now.
P.S.  Go and check Peggy’s blog out.  If you are struggling with your work, you can’t help being lifted, and fired up to tackle that difficult chapter, or edit that paragraph with the dodgy phrasing in it.


  1. It's never too late to write great books! :) Great post!

  2. Fabulous writing journey story! LOVED it! When you talked about when you were younger--- when coming up with stories was easy but writing them down was hard--- reminds me so much of my son. I think it's good to just keep imagining until you get to the point in your life where the pieces all come together in a way that you know you are willing to MAKE the time needed and find the focus to become a writer. I don't think there's such a thing as late-blooming or early-blooming, just perfect-for-you-blooming. :) (Of course I may have that view because I had also turned thirty before I figured it out.)

  3. Alexis - Thank you. I don't know if they're great, but that's the aim. :o)

    Peggy - Thanks. I think you are spot on with making time. It doesn't just happen.

  4. Yay that your book came to you in full. A couple of my books have also come to me via dreams, though never intact.

    And just this morning I received input from my aspiring author son that is just what I needed to move on with my edit. What I hope will be the final. *crosses fingers*

  5. Donna - It's great the way inspiration comes from the most unexpected places. Isn't it. :o)