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.
It's never too late to write great books! :) Great post!
ReplyDeleteFabulous 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.)
ReplyDeleteAlexis - Thank you. I don't know if they're great, but that's the aim. :o)
ReplyDeletePeggy - Thanks. I think you are spot on with making time. It doesn't just happen.
Yay that your book came to you in full. A couple of my books have also come to me via dreams, though never intact.
ReplyDeleteAnd 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*
Donna - It's great the way inspiration comes from the most unexpected places. Isn't it. :o)
ReplyDelete