Fantasy Calling

Years ago (and we're talking the best part of two decades), I used to dream about being an author. I'd always had an active imagination, always loved reading. My teacher told my little 6 year old self that my 7 page account of Jesus' ride into Jerusalem was wonderful. Writing was just a fun thing to do.

Then, when I got into my teens, my imagination went into overdrive but my ability to actual translate that into written work pretty much vanished. I'd manage to squeeze out a chapter or two and then get stuck, the same images playing over in my head for weeks, waiting to be recorded. Never happened.

I used to tell people I wrote, even though really I'd be writing angsty teenage poetry and the odd chapter of one completely disjointed plot or other. The stories in my head carried on growing, but the writing seemed nowhere to be found.

Finally, fed up with having too many characters running around in my head (and getting bored of them passing comment on my everyday life), I forced myself to take part in National Novel Writing Month last November. For those who don't know what it is, it's an event which runs (surprise surprise) for a month with the goal of writing 50,000 words over those 30 days. Enough to get the beginnings of a first draft down.

It should have been an epic fail, given my track record. That is, until I got to day 15 and realised I'd already hit the 50,000 word target. Imagine the joy. I can write. I can actually, if I put my mind to it, pour out all of the characters, plots, settings, intricate weavings of storytelling and have it make some sort of sense.

By the end of the month I'd written over 100,000 words. I have to admit it was fan fiction, so I had a head start on the world building, but for someone who had struggled to write for years despite her best efforts, it felt amazing.

And then of course I fell back into old habits. I didn't touch my carefully crafted narrative for months and when I did it was only to make minor spelling and grammar corrections. So when I discovered that there's such a thing as Camp NaNoWriMo, I made myself do that as well. Another 15k tapped out and then for good measure I set myself a new challenge.

Write. Every day. For a year.

I set myself targets ranging from 250 words a day up to 2500 during NaNoWriMo, set up a little reward system so that if I write certain amounts I can treat myself to something nice. And I set off.

Just short of 7 weeks in, I've already surpassed my target for the end of July. I haven't even considered the rewards - just seeing all those words is a glorious feeling. So glorious in fact that I thought I'd create yet another of my doomed blogs so I can prattle about my victories to the ether. Hell yes.

You never know. Maybe one of these days I'll actually get a book finished and published. Gotta keep dreaming.