November is National Novel Writing Month (Nanowrimo for short) and this year I was determined to actually put my hat into the ring and write my first novel.
To be sure, the fiction end of the writing I have done so far, mostly unpaid for the last decade or so, has sharpened my skills and allowed me to meet some wonderful people (like the nice young woman who offered to do a cover for my book as a thank you contributions to her website project) and the like, but I never considered myself a real writer and sometimes I still do not at times.
BayArt was kind enough to give me a platform to reach out with my one fiction piece that fit the inspirational tones of BayArt itself, which you can read here.
As far as any other fiction was concerned there were story ideas in my head and some rather good ones in that crop I may add but the negative voices in my head would immediately chime in:
“Who do you think you are, trying to write a book, it will never sell, it is too much work and you really think you’re an actual writer? Like a writer-writer? Yeah OK buddy, good luck with that one.”
During the last three to four years, I have been on a journey and a huge part of that journey is centered around debriding my mind of the nasty thoughts that have held me back for decades from showing my true potential.
It took me losing just about everything to come out of denial and then almost losing everything I have now just to get myself to this point, but if I have the courage of my own convictions then pain is only a doorway to enlightenment.