One of my goals for the new year was to start a blog. And here I am, not even into February and I’m already doing it. *pats self on back* Honestly, other than being busy finishing my WIP, it’s only taken me so long because I’m convinced I have nothing worthwhile to say. That might seem strange, me being a writer and all, but I write FANTASY. I make things up. It’s what I’m good at. And this writing about real stuff thing? It’s kind of wigging me out. So if I start telling you guys about how I met a fire-breathing, pink-spotted, pint-sized talking giraffe yesterday, I apologize. Old habits die hard. But hopefully it’ll be something less lame than what I just mentioned.
Anyway, I thought I’d christen my blog with a post for you guys get to know a little bit about me. Once upon a time, on a dark and stormy night in 1987, I was born… just kidding. Let’s skip ahead 22 years.
I started writing my current WIP about a year ago. I was working at the time as a hostess in a fancy Italian restaurant. Not exactly my dream job, but it paid the rent. And then the best possible thing happened to me. No, I didn’t find an agent or get published (yes, that would have been better, but I wasn’t ready for that yet). I got sick.
I have either Crohn’s Disease or Ulcerative Colitis, the doctors aren’t sure. They’re basically the same thing, anyway. And I was in the middle of a terrible flare-up (that’s what they call it when the disease is active). I can’t really explain the hell that is a flare, but imagine this. The moment you walk into a store, a restaurant, a museum, you make plans. You chart your course to the nearest bathroom in you head, and you hope it isn’t one with a single stall. Just in case there’s a line.
It doesn’t sound like the greatest thing ever, I know, but I’m getting there. So when you hit that rock bottom, where every day is an absolute struggle and all you want to do is crawl into bed and hide for the rest for your life but you can’t because you still have to run to the bathroom every fifteen minutes, something happens. Or at least, something happened to me.
Let me back up just a bit. I wrote a novel for my senior thesis and hadn’t written anything since. Not a single word. I’d hit a dry spell. My mind was an inspirationless desert. (yes I will be making up words, get used to it) For almost a year. And that’s a long time for me to go without writing.
So amidst my sick fog, I decided that that was enough. I needed to start writing again. And like that, some of the fog lifted. I had an idea. Now, let me clarify. Health-wise, I wasn’t getting better. If anything, I was getting worse. I was going to the doctor’s every other week it seemed, conferencing, getting tests, trying to get this thing under control. And eventually, my doctor decided to put me on prednisone.
For those of you that don’t know, prednisone is a medicinal steroid that makes you swell up like a balloon. And a less common side-effect, it makes my joints swell too, which made it really hard to stand all day. So I quit my job.
Long story short, I was determined, and I wrote a 130,000 word novel in about three months. Yikes, I know. After several revisions, it is now 79,000 words, a much more respectable number for YA fantasy, let me assure you.
And I’ve begun THE PROCESS. *shudders*
Only year later and I feel worlds away from where I was last year. I’m healthy. And I’m hopeful. And I’ve started a blog.
Have you guys ever hit a low that made you stronger? I’d love to hear about it!
