For years, I've thought of myself as a writer. It was my first dream job. My childhood was filled with books. My mom, a former English teacher, made sure I read all the classics like Emma, Little Women, and Anne of Green Gables. My dad said that any book worth reading was worth buying, and would get me any book I wanted from the little bookshop across from his small-town, downtown office.
Even after an English degree and a minor in non-fiction creative writing, which required poetry classes, fiction writing classes, and lots of humiliation in peer-review sessions, I still wasn't really writing.
This past January, I started to take on some freelance work as a copywriter, and for the first time since college, I got in the habit of writing daily.
I also started re-reading my favorite books. Surprisingly, I was drawn not to my leather-bound stacks of Shakespeare and Austen, but to my water-stained, browning paper-backed young adult fantasy fiction books.
Some, I've re-read five or six times. Others, I have access to in hard copy, on my kindle, and through audiobooks. They are my constant companions, and the heroines within fostered my independence and creativity, my grit and determination more than I realized.
This past year, I started working on a story. I'll share more about the inspiration for the story one day, but for now, I'm just going to start sharing chapter-by-chapter, as it is written. This format feels kind of silly and irreverent, but something is better than nothing. I'll just tell myself it's Dickensesque.
Creative Writing is an e