My First Blog! What really started my writing journey...
Updated: May 27, 2021
Hello to my future readers, critics, friends, and family. Soon, my novel, Enigma Rose, will no longer by my own little baby growing inside my womb all protected from outside influences, but its own entity for people to love, hate, or just ignore. I tried so many times to write a book. I have random paragraphs stored on my hard drive or somewhere in the cloud about my woes of being divorced with three boys, my escapades of online dating in my forties, and funny Facebook posts I'd see that day (when I say funny I mean posts where a person is talking about how they don't need anyone or anything, they've been scorned, so they decided to seek attention on a platform where most of their "friends" are people they barely knew in high school). But, then one day in 2019, I met someone that had a sad but ordinary circumstance that happens to so many of us: a death of a loved one. But the way the person described this circumstance didn't sit right with me. Maybe it was the words that were used to describe the every day circumstance or maybe it was my mood that day, but it stayed with me and eventually buried itself somewhere in my unconscientious mind.
One day, while I was running outside, something triggered the memory of that conversation and of this person's circumstance. It could have been a face that passed me by that day or a smell in the air that brought me back to the moment I learned of this circumstance, but it emerged so rapidly in my head like a blister. I had to get this memory, this thought out of my head before it popped, dried up, and faded back into the very dark corners of my mind. When I came home from my run, I grabbed the note pad that I use for my grocery list and wrote my thoughts down. I realized I had a premise to a story. I went back to work and immediately requested Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday off. I wanted to start my book as soon as possible. I went to Office Depot and bought a white board and some markers and made a very big commitment to myself that I would write a novel in its entirety.
I had a plan; I would use the white board to outline my story and then fill it with color on the pages of MS Word. No matter what came my way, I would write. I told a few people about my latest quest to hold myself accountable. Wednesday morning rolled around, and I woke up feeling refreshed and excited about my new adventure. I made a cup of coffee and settled into my office with a dry erase marker in hand. I wrote down the premise that was festering in my head on the white board thinking that the rest of the outline will just effortlessly fall into place. Then suddenly, I got a hot flash. I had sweat beads forming all over my body as a feeling of overwhelming dread came over me, and I came to the realization that my premise was lame. Who cares, so what, this is stupid, what were you thinking drifted in my head and landed in the pit of my stomach. I really wanted to cry. But then my 15-year old son came into the room and asked, "how is your book coming along?" Yes, I told my boys that Mom was going to write a book. I couldn't tell my son that I made a mistake, I quit, this was a stupid idea. So, I said "it's going slow, but it's only the first day." He left the room, and I sat down in front of my laptop and opened up Word.
The blank page was so white and bare. I just stared at it for a good five minutes. I was pissed off, deflated, and a bit depressed. But instead of giving up and turning on the Today Show, I began to write about my thoughts. Instead of writing about this premise that I thought was brilliant only an hour ago, I wrote about me and some of the things I had been going through lately. I wrote about the guilt I have every day of being a divorced mom and how I should have stayed and done things differently so that my kids would grow up in a more secure environment. I wrote about the gut wrenching feelings I get when I wake up sometimes knowing that my kids went through a loss of losing two together, full time parents. I wrote about how I only thought about myself when I first realized that I wanted out of my marriage and I should have thought more about the kids. And just like that, I had the makings of my first character in my book. Then as I continued to write, I'd ask myself "what if?". What if this character did X or met this character that did Y. The what if's were so much fun because that's when my imagination took over and the story grew.
The big premise? Well it's in the book, but its just one of the many arcs and twists and turns that turned a cathartic piece of writing into a psychological suspense novel. I am looking forward to and dreading the publishing of Enigma Rose because it's a piece of me that I am exposing. The acts that the characters do are fiction, but the feelings that these characters have are very real. I hope readers relate to the characters even if they never want to admit they do. I relate to all of them, and I love them very much. Sounds silly I know, but they are very real to me and allow me to express things in a way that I never thought I could. Thanks for reading my first but not last blog! I hope I didn't bore you.
My boys and me. They are and always will be the loves of my life.