I’ve been spazzing for the past couple of days about what I would blog on. Finally, in desperation, I asked one of my co-workers what she’d like to read about a writer if she visited their blog. She answered that she would like to know what gave a writer the passion to write. As I kicked around the idea, I realized to me writing isn’t a passion. It’s as normal to me as breathing.
Hmmm. Not much help when it comes to writing this blog. But then I decided I would tell you a story about my writing that I’ve never told anyone. Not my parents. Not my husband…before I kicked his skinny ass out. Not even my soul sister who knows more of my dark secrets than anyone else! But I can trust you guys with anything about writing, can’t I?
My writing started like any other author. I was a reader. And as a youngster, I was the oldest kid on the block so I’m the one who made up the stories we acted out in play. But it wasn’t until middle-school that I wrote my actual first piece.
Just to set this up, my Sunday school class attended an Easter sunrise Passion Play. It was so inspiring that when I got home, I was too excited to sleep the few hours I neeeded before regular church. So I sat down and wrote out my first short story in longhand. It concerned a scientist who wants to prove that Jesus was a legend, so he builds a time-travel machine to go back and get the proof he needs. Of course, once he’s in the Holy land and sees, hears Jesus, he becomes a believer. He takes pictures with the camera he hoped to use to de-bunk the story, but when he returns to his own time, there is only a bright white spot in each picture of the Lord. So the man of science learns he has to have faith despite what his laws of science says.
To be honest, after I finished the story, I didn’t know what to do with it. Part of me was thrilled that I’d actually written a story. But another part of me was embarrassed, unsure if I should show it to anyone. I did show it to my eighth grade English teacher and she liked it enough to want to publish it in an inter-school anthology. Believe it or not, I refused. And it wasn’t until I was an adult that I started writing for serious.
Okay, okay! Yeah, the story was kind of hokey, but even then I did have some idea of GMC. I understood to some extent how to do scene and sequel. My story had a beginning, middle, and ended with a climax. And my protagonist did show personal growth. Sometimes, I have to wonder…what would have happened if I’d had the confidence to have that first story published? Would I now be Nora Roberts?