I love writing and creating stories. Ever since I was five or six, I’ve enjoyed it. My stories used to be about chickens, saving abandoned babies, and camping. When I was eleven (after being inspired by Narnia), I created my own world named Mendolop. The heroes (me and my siblings) fought angry red dragons and huge frogs with the help of a chicken named Tatato and a pony. And, of course, David (who married Jehosheba) had a magical sword. *coughs* My writing has improved drastically since then
thankfully. If it hadn’t, I would be very mad at myself and probably would have quit….XD
Last year, I almost gave up on writing. In fact, I told myself half a dozen times, “I am done, done, done writing stories.” I was discouraged at my lack of ‘inspiration’ and that I wasn’t able to finish any of the stories I started. Pretty much everyone I knew at the time was an amazing writer. My stories didn’t compare. So why write at all?
Try as I might, I couldn’t stop writing. 2019 was filled with a lot of depressing poetry-that-isn’t-poetry-and-doesn’t-have-a-category and random short stories. Each time I threw a story away, each time I gave up on an idea, each time I vowed never to write again, I always found myself back at my computer, typing away again.
Writing is a part of me. It’s engrained in me. It’s how I make sense of life. It gives me hope that things do get better. I may be terrible at it, but who says that has to stop me? Practicing, working hard and not giving up will pay off and one day, maybe, just maybe, I’ll write something that I’m proud of.
My goal in life is not to become an author. I don’t believe that is my calling. But I love writing and I’m not going to give it up. I’ll keep writing one more word, one more sentence. Because word by word, we can create anything.
If you want to laugh at Younger Me, I’ve put together a page of random old stories that I wrote in my younger days. XD Have fun at my expense. XD