I have been attempting to write a book for the past several years. Attempting, and not making it past the first or second page. My third grade self would probably shove my face in dirt if she knew such things. Or WHAP! me with her pigtails. Either or. Thanks to the irregularity of work and the absense of my pint-sized mini me, I have decided now is the time to jump back in, head first. My plan, originally, was to finally enter in NaNoWriMo this year - after two years of "yes yes yes! .... no." - but I have been itching to start again. I suppose this will make due until November.
Speaking of, I am presently taking applications for the role of "Kick Melissa's Ass & Make Her Write This Damn Book" for the month of November. Seriously.
But where to begin? They say the best place is the beginning, but that generally isn't exciting. I was born, it was disgusting; I grew up, was probably a giant pain in my mothers ass. TA-DA! There went the first 18 years of my life, condensed into a sentence. I've been writing my whole life, that's not interesting. HOW I stopped - that has more of a hook to it.
At 18, I thought I was completely unlovable to the opposite sex. Clearly, I was not worthy of their time or attention. I blame Disney. For years, I grew up hearing that one day my prince would come and the world would be bright and shiny, and singing birds would walk me down the aisle into Happily Ever After. Prince Gorgeous would be on a white stallion and we would go gallivanting off into the sunset, nary a worry between us. Provided I steered clear of lardy octopuses, poisoned combs, and avoided talking forests at all cost. Sounds easy enough.
This did not come to pass. Probably had something to do with my intameable hair and my rather cynical wit. Regardless, I had finally met a boy at 18 who made me think I was a Princess and he was... well, probably just a peasant, but he worshipped me, so we'll call him an un-capitalized prince. The Princess and the prince-ish-thing-who-was-really-just-a-frog. "Froggy" for short. The Princess and Froggy. A pushy, self-centered frog who eventually assumed a dictoral role in my life via apathy and caused me to dislike existence... in not so many words.
Either way, my late teen years were saturated in naivete and deceitful bliss. After forcing pieces for so long, a person changes. I, personally, hated the person I was turning into and the world we'd created, amongst other things. What I probably hated the most was his condescending attitude on life. Anything I liked to do, LOVED to do, was not good enough for him. Laughable, in fact. Writing is like riding a bike; you'll never forget how to do it, but it'll take a few bumps and bruises to hop back in. Apparently, my bumps and bruises spurned mockery. Until, that is, he heard about a shipmate's wife who was rolling in dough with her erotica fiction. Oh, ho! By golly, if that wasn't the greatest thing he'd ever heard? What, this stuff his wife "attempts" to do could make him richer? Lash the whip! Tighten the cuffs! Mush mush mush!!
Needless to say, all this caused was anger. Good bye, writing career. Dreams I once had in full color and detail, dreams so exquisite they played out like a movie in my head, dreams so clear I could write them down for days - all gone. He sucked all the life out of me, and took my creativity just for spite.
That's not entirely fair or true. He did give me the most remarkable gift of all. Ish. But she's for another time.
Any attempt since then has been just that - an attempt. Almost two years free now, and it's still a work in progress. I feel I've come to a better place in life, however, and am able to pick it back up. Plus, with booku's of free time right now, what else do I have to do?
Answer: Nothing. Except that paper, that I will probably put off until the very last minute.
In the mean time, this will be my personal journey into fine tuning my skills yet again, so maybe... juuussstttt maybe some magic will happen. After all, Jack O'Bannon is requesting his story weekly. A pilot with the greatest action hero name ever should not be left waiting.
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