While my life erupted around me I withdrew into myself, into my imagination. My first love, reading, filled my broken heart. Writing healed my soul.
After I finished reading a book my mind would conjure up new scenarios and alternate endings. The sensations created a high, and I just couldn’t get enough. Stories and series showed me what was missing in my life. While I may never visit these far off lands I could explore them in my imagination. I could create my own worlds, people, and places. My own thoughts would shape their very existence.
Great writers may have inspired me. But the flawed writers and their stories motivated me; my frustration over their stories and how they could have been masterpieces if only they had tweaked this or that. Creativity isn’t learned, but it’s execution is very much methodical. I am a black and white person, logical. I love lists, structure, and am borderline OCD. My imagination is at odds with my personality; the black and white vs every shade of gray.
I enjoy writing about things I will never experience. The same goes for reading. I’m 90% finished writing Chrysalis, the first novel in my Lili series. My target word count is near 100,000 words. I don’t rely on a word count. The story is finished when it’s finished. I also have a concept started, if you can call 40,000 words a concept. Shattered has a Male protagonist and I’m not sure what direction to take him in. My current project is a Dark Erotica Novella, Restraint. The wonder of these stories is that I may never find myself in a situation as my character Katya explores her sexuality. I will never fly, or grow wings and talons, or have fangs. I will certainly never be a sociopath as Atticus is. I can create these experiences and truly live them out in my imagination. As a writer, I sometimes feel like I am playing the Sims, controlling my characters. A better description, I am their god. It’s a very heady feeling, to control so much when you have no control over yourself.
I put a little bit of my soul in each of my works. I try very hard to remove myself from the journey. If you look hard enough, you will find me. It is impossible not to have me leak into the story. My first story, Chrysalis, I had to go back and completely remove myself. This isn’t about me, I’m just here to enjoy the ride. My friend and book mate, Kris, recently read a partial draft of Restraint. She wrote to me, “that’s you, That’s so Erica.” I laughed out loud for real. Yes, I seem to always have characters that have some form of an obsessive compulsive disorder, whether extremely organized or germaphobic. In this case, my character alphabetized her slippery agents. *You’ll have to read it to understand that comment. LOL* I may post a teaser in the future.
I hear my mother asking me if I am finished with them yet, or when will I be finished. It’s hard to explain to someone who doesn’t write, that the story doesn’t write its self. A great day I can pump out 10,000 words and I end up feeling hungover. A difficult day I may hit 2,000 words of hard earned story. In the end it’s all about my mindset. I have to become my characters. I live their world; after all I created it.