I’ve always wanted to be an author – a real, published one.
I started talking quite young. When I was still a toddler, I’m told I used to make up stories and tell them to myself in my cot, when I should have been sleeping. My parents tried to get record of this, but the recording device failed.
That tradition of telling stories to myself has continued, even to this day. It’s how I daydream, a lot of the time. In primary school, I got into a habit of telling these stories using other authors’ stories that I liked. (I didn’t know until a few years ago that this was called “fanfiction”.) Again, a lot hasn’t been written down – it’s mostly all in my head, with a few exceptions.
Also during this time, I wrote little snippets of “original fiction” story ideas down. I used an old book to write down story titles as they came into my head; and used a few old notebook/ diary things to write down paragraphs or pages of words about this or that.
I didn’t usually get beyond a few pages before being distracted by another idea, although there were a few stories completed using a software program called, “Storybook Weaver”. Then, on a fateful day in year six (? I think), I wrote two A5 pages worth of words of a story. I left it for a while, as I often do. When I was clearing out the space under my bed a few months later, I found it, and became interested again.
Over the next few years, from years seven to nine of high school, I wrote like mad in the little pink book, taking it everywhere with me. In between classes, I wrote. On fundraiser days at school, I wrote. At home, I wrote.
In Year Nine, I was forced to switch to a computer when the notebook ran out of pages. For the next year and a half (ish), I ate lunch with my friends outside the library, then dashed in armed with the pink book and my trusty USB. Every lunchtime I could, I’d write. And write. And write.
In the meantime, I also found time to write out another story, a little novella based on a particularly vivid dream. As well as do other things. In the early stages, with the pink book, I supplemented the writing by acting out scenes with Lego. This explains why the original ideas for several characters look the way they do, as well as how I managed to realise there was more than one book’s worth of potential here.
Finally, it was done. The first draft (or second), anyway. Then I began editing. But not exactly enough. By the end of Year Eleven, I was beginning to realise that the book (and potential series that was unfolding in my minds’ eye) needed work. Lots of it. A lot of the writing was dated. Concepts were there, but I hadn’t given them enough detail, and the overall story was a bit too simplistic and fanfiction-like. Groan!
But of course, Year Twelve loomed. (Eep!) As a promise to my parents, I put aside all writing “distractions” for a year. After that was over (and there’s a whole other blog post about things there!) I had to juggle starting uni with my new plans for the story. I tried to do more research this time, but still plunged headlong into things when I got the chance. The book is getting a makeover; I’m rewriting it from scratch. But when I started doing that properly last year, had I really sorted everything out? NO.
So back to the drawing board I went. I’m a planster in terms of story writing – I can write scenes as they come to me out of the blue, but I need a good plan first. If I’m not happy with the plan, it slows me down. Now, I think I’ve finally got a plan I can be happy with. So it’s off to work I go. 🙂
My time to write has been – over the past year – on the train from my hometown to Melbourne (and vice versa), where i go for uni. An hour plus vline journey, where you just have to sit there, is quite productive I’ve found. Then I use the metro to catch up on reading.
Right now, my story is looking maybe four-ish books long. A trilogy, plus a fourth (and maybe fifth) book. The trilogy is quite planned. The other(s) are ideas right now, but given they’re last I have a buffer. Yes, I write chronologically. I can’t help it – things have to be linear that way. Even if I do go back and make the timeline wibbly-wobbly now and again.
The title of the series is, potentially, The Lily Chronicles. It has some futuristic, sci-fi type elements, and maybe a touch of fantasy – though right now I’m not sure how much. It also is a bit of a political….I’m not sure if “thriller” is the right word? Ah well. A bit of terror/ war stuff too, but much less than its simplistic beginnings did. It focuses mainly on a young woman, and her companions. Their choices, and things.
(I think this is one of my longest original posts. I suppose I like telling my story.)