A year ago today I was having a heart to heart with not only my hubby, but myself as well. See, I did not believe in creative writing as a profession; I had known for too long that your average author earned peanuts and rice, and I wanted to not worry about making ends meet. Upon moving to a town of five hundred where the main industries were gold and whores, I realized I had nothing to lose but time, ego, and a dream.
I started to write again, and it was a real bear to get back into the writing groove again. A college career of dry professional writing had handicapped my storytelling abilities, though it gave me a better mindset for creating an argument, doing research, and writing well in general.
I wrote and rewrote the first book about five times, relearning my craft as I went along. The end product was the best I could accomplish, and I will never be ashamed of that. Granted, it if you want to judge my abilities, you are best to do that with my most recent work. I no longer need to do major edits or rewrites, as I am starting to fine tune the general story making process. Characte
have always been easy and real to me, but plotting…not so much. Since I’ve finished three books cover to cover (at least in their rough forms), I am feeling more confident with becoming more artsy in my sentences. Practice is going to be of particular interest to me in the coming days. Now, I’m not talking about the rosey fingers of dawn here. I’m talking about plain language that brings the scene to your living room.
It’s not as easy as it sounds, yet it is. It will be a long time coming before I achieve it to satisfaction. I am looking forward to the next stage in my adventure! And I love the tiny community I have found here amongst Indie authors!
Here’s to another year! I’m so excited for whatever lies in wait!
Your Dearest Nicolette.