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Hi.

Welcome to my home base. I’m a writer and actor in New York City with a love for fairy tales, travel, and cheese.

Victory Lap

Victory Lap

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I am about to finish nanowrimo. I may be jinxing myself writing this prior to doing so but I am only 3,293 words away (the goal is 50,000 words by November 30th) That number feels good considering a year ago, I was about 14,005 words away from finishing when I was wrongfully terminated from a job that was eating me alive and then sunk its teeth in for another month after that (this is not that story).

It stung not to finish last year for a million reasons. The funny part is, I didn't even like the novel I was writing. It was more about writing 50,000 words. It would be the longest thing I had ever written and I wanted to see if I could do it. I think I would have. 

A year later, I can look back and be a little angry with myself for giving in so easily. I did try and write, in my own defense. After two full days of crying, I sat down and tried to be productive but the words didn't come. I pushed out about 8,000 but they were garbage and I lost steam. It was November 30th and it was over.

I should add that starting on Thanksgiving, I worked non stop until that Monday and a vengeful individual struck me down. I did not write at all while I was working and in the dwindling days that followed, my imagination was silent. 

This year, I picked a young adult fantasy novel. It is what I love to read and I've made a few attempts here and there to carve out a story in the genre. I came up with this idea earlier this year and had a good chunk written prior to the start of nanowrimo. That's not what they encourage but it is not cheating or forbidden. I started a fresh new document to record my words and continued from where I had left off.

Naturally, the entire story has changed from what I had previously written so it doesn't really count anyway!

This is the first big goal I have achieved in a long time. I actually love this book. I SHOULD love this book; you should always love what you create. This book flowed out of me so effortlessly, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Somehow, it didn't.

I am no longer scared to dive into an editing process either. I'm ecstatic. Even in moments where I expected myself to be frustrated because I was changing something I had cemented 20 pages before, I found myself excited to go back and tweak it, find what worked and what didn't. 

It is like I am coming to the top of a hill. It is just about to crest and show me the horizon and it feels strange. It is uncomfortable because I'm worried now if I stumble, I won't get back up. But if I keep climbing, I don't know what is over the top of the hill. Is it another hill? Is it an ocean? Is it a meadow full of flowers that I can frolic and play in and everything is amazing? Probably one of the first two. I'm guessing another hill as I will need to keep going to edit and do more drafts if I want anything to happen with this book.

Then there's that. One of my friends asked what I wanted to do with it once I was done. Obviously I would want to get it to a place where I let friends and family read it. Then maybe send it out and see if anyone else likes it. Self publish if they don't. I am overwhelmed already knowing I don't know how that process works and where even to start. Luckily, I have friends and resources to advise me but it still is a looming vast thing right up ahead.

I won't let it frighten or stall me. Not yet. I am about to achieve a goal I had let slip away last year. Well, it was semi stolen from me if we are being honest. I can't be too mad at myself. I was in a very dark hole and was unable to crawl out before November 30th. Writing did end up saving me. I started writing on this blog more frequently, sharing what I was going through. The way people reached out to me made me feel less alone and inspired me to keep going. I am filled with gratitude for that. 

I've always loved writing. My mother kept telling me to be a writer. As usual, my mother was right. It is something that never left me. I've been writing since I learned to. I just moved it up to the spotlight a little more. It's funny the things you love as a kid and how they come back to you. Or maybe it isn't funny at all. Perhaps its only normal. The universe is constantly surprising me with its magic. This is another perfect example. 

The Fellowship Of An Artist

The Fellowship Of An Artist

Would You Want Me When I'm Not Myself?

Would You Want Me When I'm Not Myself?