Twenty-Something Writers

So, I'm excited about this. Ashley over at Writing to Reach You masterminded this idea about a writing community, and who better to talk about writing than a bunch of bloggers? Exactly. So if you head on over to Twenty-Something Bloggers, you can find the first prompt. Then you can come back here and read my response, because well, if there's one thing I like talking about, it's myself. And now I get to talk about myself and my writing? It's a good day, for sure.


The way the story goes, I was five years old and instead of having breakfast before kindergarten one day, I was reading a book my grandmother had read to me countless times before. She was busy getting everyone else to eat, so I decided to read out loud to her. My grandma can be pretty cynical at times, and I probably was underfoot in her kitchen, but she told me that reciting something from memory was not the same as reading. I was too young to read, but at least I had a good memory.

Well dang it, Grandma, I was reading! According to her, I put the book down for a moment, and then turned to her and said in the snottiest five-year-old voice I could muster, "I can too read! Go pick a book and I'll show you!" I like to think I gave a good foot stomp too, but I can't say for sure. Grandma went and got another book, one I had never seen before, and opened it to a page in front of me and told me to have at it. So I did. And I read her that entire book.

Take that, Grandma!

Of course, she now takes credit for her five year old granddaughter being able to read at a second grade level, but let's face it, I was obviously a genius.

Except that I wasn't. Throughout the next twelve years I proved to be a perfectly adequate student. The only thing I actually excelled at was reading and writing. The rest I could care less about.

Oh, I was addicted to reading. I read everything I could get my hands on, and the first book heroine I remembered falling in love with was Ramona Quimby. Even back then, when I didn't know what it was called, I knew that I was destined to be an author of chick-lit.

I never started out with writing in diaries or journals. For as long as I can remember, I was always all about the fiction. I can't believe I'm going to share this with you. The first short story I ever wrote to completion was about 16 year old twins (Taryn and Caryn, thankyouverymuch) who were in love with the same boy. The boy was in love with Caryn and Taryn didn't appreciate that, so obviously the only way to win this situation was for her to poison her sister with tea spiked with honey that she was deathly allergic too, fake a runaway note from "Taryn" and then live out the rest of her life as her twin sister with the boy she loves.

Why yes, I was addicted to Sweet Valley High, Fear Street novels, and All My Children at the time. I was also only 13 years old. Can you say awesome?

As I got older, I'd like to say my writing became less... dramatic, and more realistic, but what fun is that? I was embracing the rules of soap operas and trashy romance novels (Hello, Danielle Steele!) and what fun was it to read something that didn't have emotionally unstable heroines and kidnapping plots that would put anything Beverly Hills, 90210 ever did to Kelly Taylor to shame?

Then, I got lazy. I stopped creating my own characters and started writing short stories based on my favorite television couples. For years, this was my secret shame addiction. I have notebooks filled with stories about Bailey and Sarah from Party of Five, Danny and Michelle from Guiding Light, and Isabel and Alex from Roswell. Oh yes, I saved them all. Once in awhile, I would jot down new ideas for my own stories and I would get halfway into them before getting stuck. I still have all of those too.

One day I stumbled across something incredibly fascinating on the Internet. Turns out, I wasn't a freak for writing stories based on already established characters, oh no! There are literally thousands of websites devoted to "fanfiction".

At long last, I had found my people. I was home.

But could I do what they did? Could I take something that I had written and you know, post it online for other people to read? And those people could leave feedback as to whether they loved or hated my work. Who would do that? Who would set themselves up for that kind of criticism.

The first story I posted was based on a Degrassi: The Next Generation couple that I'd rather not look back on. The following couple of years, I became more comfortable and branched out into my (at the time) obsession with the General Hospital mobster storylines of Sonny, Carly, Jason, and Courtney. I was 24 and posting chapters at least three times a week. I craved the reviews and people seemed to really enjoy my plotlines. Being validated as an author by getting positive feedback and people emailing you wanting to know when you'll finish a story? There's no greater high.

And what's more fun than writing Godfather style stories about this man?

Then, I wandered away from the General Hospital stories and stumbled into the wonderful world of Gilmore Girls where I've been for the last three years, writing the great love story of Rory and Logan.

The dream is still there to ultimately finish my own novel. For the last couple of years I have been obsessed with the chick-lit genre. Sarah Mylnowski and Melissa Senate are my heroes. I've been working on my own novel since 2005. As of yesterday, I finished chapter three. The goal is to finish a rough draft by the end of the year, but it's tough sometimes, you know? To put aside any and all self-doubt you may have about your own writing and just write.

It's not as easy as it sounds by any means, but it can't be said enough. If you love writing, it doesn't matter if you're good at it, or what you're writing, or why you're writing.

Just write.