When I was thirteen, I swiped my first romance novel from my mother’s bookshelf and fell in love with the genre. Completely enamored, I immediately started declaring to anyone that would listen that I was going to write my own book and the next day my father handed me a brand new notebook.

That moment created two passions in my life: The desire to publish my very own novel and a love of all things stationary, because nothing beats a new notebook and a great pen.

Did I understand the important structures of a story? How to craft dialogue?

Absolutely not.

Did it stop me?

Yeah, it turns out that was actually problematic.

I saw epic scenes in my head. Glimpses of people that existed only in my imagination. I’ve filled notebooks with random ideas from dreams, and I’ve excelled at creating the perfect plots for the movies playing exclusively in my head.

I devoured books. I couldn’t get enough of Nora Roberts, Catherine Coulter, and Danielle Steel- thinking long after the final page about characters I loved or miscellaneous plot twists that I would have taken.

Putting pen to paper? That I struggled with. I’ve always been passionate about the start. I’ve written the first twenty thousand words of a story I’m dying to tell multiple times, but the middle has been my downfall. The premature death of all of my stories.

My middle? I pursued a degree in science over writing, found my own happily ever after, had two kids, adopted some animals, and I have been living my best life. For the longest time, the writing paused.

The passion wasn’t though. The notebooks were piling up, the ideas were spilling over, and two years ago I finally completed that dream. I finished my first rough draft. Ecstatic that I finally completed a story, but terrified it was awful, I convinced myself that completing it was enough for me and I put it away.

For awhile, away it stayed, but the scenes in my head kept playing. My imaginary friends still wanting their happy ending. So here I am, restarting the journey of a thirteen year old girl working through the process of draft to published.

So what can I say about myself now?

I’m a wife, mom, scientist, and finally- I am a writer.