I’ve been writing since the 7th grade.
I had been reading Sherlock Holmes (still do) and had a very vivid dream in the style of Sir Arthur. The dream had been so realistic and interesting I spent my homeroom and lit period writing it out. As I wrote, I guess it was a bit of a novelty in my tiny private school, to see an eleven-year-old with a stack of paper, writing out a dream. One girl named Sarah asked if she could read it when I was done. I was so bewildered by the request, I handed over the pages, not knowing what to expect. About halfway through, she actually stopped and wanted to discuss her theories as to who the killer was. When she was finished and said she actually like it, I felt a strange kind of thrill in that area around my solar plexus. It was just a dream, there had been no intent for this little draft to be anything beyond a way to remember those slippery shadows that rejoice in eluding us past inception, but it became so much more.
Over time I had many ups and downs when it came to my writing. My senior year, I had entered into a writing competition through my church, (the same competition I had done extremely well in the 2 years prior) and flopped in the very first round. I know we’re not supposed to let stuff like that stop us, especially if we are true writers, driven by outside forces to create, but that day I was stomped and did not write again for over two years (aside from the occasional poem of sorts). It wasn’t until I followed a whim to revisit my high school and ran into my old English teacher that this changed. She asked what I was up to these days and I told her I had enrolled in massage school. Imagine my surprise when she was visibly and verbally upset with me that I hadn’t gone into anything having to do with writing. She had never encouraged me or even mentioned I didn’t suck at the soul-to-word-to-print fun, but here she was animatedly lecturing me!
Soon after, I took me to a literary mecca (Barnes and Noble) and immersed myself in the fantasy fiction section, not emerging for a year. My rebirth, fueled by a disgust that there were so few LGBT fantasy novels out there, I began my own quest to contribute to the genre and fell in love with writing all over again. Not all for publication either, but all because I needed to!