I have enjoyed writing in a journal for many years. That process allowed me to release emotion to the paper so I could move on. It also facilitated learning by re-reading my words later – after I had gained some perspective.
That writing began to organize itself through creating fiction. In February 2019 while attending a writing class we were challenged to be ready to read aloud from our “book”. At that point the book was not ready (nor started). So I now had a new deadline. I wrote the first chapter for the reading. Last month, October 2019, I finished the writing and re-writing with my editor. It is now published!
What a process it was! I cried like a baby when I wrapped up the story and stopped typing. I was emotional when the editor said it was good – validation from others. With each level of editing and re-write, I found new ways to make the characters stronger and the circumstances more compelling. But I had no idea where this talent was coming from. The story was telling itself. That was a little intimidating and frankly bewildering.
The next six months of work were challenging. I wanted it to happen/finish faster and other times it was too fast. When I saw the cover produced, again I wept. I had created something I never really thought I could. Exhilarating!
If no one every buys the book or reads it other than family, that will be okay. I did something new in my advanced age.