I am participating in a 31 Days Campaign and am finally going to finish my memoirs. About her.
I've wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember. I wrote my first book series when I was seven. It was about a kid who spins in a circle so fast that he turns into a tornado and wipes out his school so he never has to go back again. An edge-of-your-seat kind of read, my friend. When I was in the 5th grade, my teacher told me I was stupid and could never be a writer. I was pretty depressed for a little while after that. I didn't know what I wanted to do or to be and I thought that meant I was supposed to die before I was old enough to do or be anything. On the first day of high school, my new English teacher gave everyone a reading speed and comprehension test to help her judge the rest of the year. As a ninth grader, I was reading twice as fast as the average person with the comprehension level of a 12.5th grader. But instead of making a big deal out of it, she just treated me like a student who read like someone about to enter college. She just expected more out of me, like it would be absurd for me to give her anything less. So I didn't. Even after we moved to Stockbridge, I had a few really good English teachers who kept building up my self-esteem. I joined the school's literary magazine and newspaper and quickly found myself editor-in-chief of both. By my senior year, I had taken all of my school's English classes, so they paid for me to attend English classes at a local community college. When I graduated and went away to college, I decided to major in English and become a teacher because I didn't know what else to do with an degree in reading and writing. But about a semester in, I realized that I did not want to be a teacher. I loved college and loved learning, but as the years ticked by, I found myself no closer to knowing what I "wanted to be when I grew up." I graduated and found a job as a paper pusher at a 9-5. When the economy crashed a year later, I was laid off. So I went back to what I knew: writing. I became a freelance writer and designer for the next three years. Someone once paid me to write a grammar course pack for non-native speakers. I don't remember exactly when, but at some point between 9th grade and getting married, I decided I wanted to write again. Maybe not as a career, maybe just a hobby, but I wanted to write something that someone would publish.
You could say I started writing my memoirs back in January of 2011 when I wrote my first-ever blog post about the Baby Heart Saga. As things grew more and more intense, I just kept recording all this glorious raw material that I would start to compile in late summer 2012 when I realized what I wanted to do. I worked away, collecting and editing and filling in backstory for a good five months until I finished everything up to our move back to Florida following heart surgery. At that point, I had writer's block and decided to focus on my Etsy shop. One thing led to another, and I had completely fell off the bandwagon. In the late summer 2013, one year after I had initially started working, something sparked my inner writing flame and I resumed working on the book. I edited the first section, re-vamped the middle section, and created an outline for the final third. I was writing the final third of the book when I stopped to pack and move.
And now this is the final push to finish a book. I want to finish writing by October 31st. Then I'd like a few people I know to read it and provide me with some feed back. Then I'd like to start submitting it for publication after the holidays. I'm aware the submission process is fairly complicated and I've looked into it a bit, but I'll save the details for another post.
It is incredibly satisfying to hold a stack of paper full of words I wrote. The memoirs are currently about 90 pages of double-spaced computer pages. I'm not sure what that'll translate into when all is said and done, but I'm not very concerned at this point with how long the book is.
Right now I'm just concerned that it is.