I initially noticed I had a talent for writing in third grade. The first time a teacher told me to make up a story and put it to the page, I took to it as naturally as breathing. I was in love for the first time. I began to write in my free time, weaving ridiculous tales for myself and my friends.
I wrote about Indiana Jones type adventurers and of horrific invaders from outer space before I discovered there was a profession here. There were people called authors who actually do this for a living! My dream was born. I began to take this little hobby of mine a bit more seriously – researching, outlining and digging into human behaviors to add realism.
Then a series of tragedies struck. The most extensive piece I had ever written was lost. The whole story, all notes, everything was gone. I was crushed. I picked up the pieces to write something completely different but this led to being sidetracked by the idea of going into psychology as a profession. Then, as I was preparing for college, I was told I could not be a writer because my English scores were not good enough.
This hit hard and I was not mature enough to stand my ground. I folded. Feeling defeated, I slumped off to be whatever society told me I had to be to get by. But my head would not let me go quietly. I rebelled and spiraled downward.
It has been a long road to get back to my dream. I spent a few years writing the storylines for the haunted houses that my wife and I put on every year for family and friends. I would write poems and take notes of potential storylines for “later” when I could write the next great novel. The final cog fell into place when my grandfather died.
Having already lost my paternal grandfather, it struck me that nobody said anything at his funeral. This great man is gone from our lives and no one has anything to say? That was not going to happen again. I took to writing a eulogy for my maternal grandfather. The words flowed from my heart and the valve was open once more. It will never be closed again.
The dream has been awakened in me. This is what I am meant to do with my life. I am a writer.
I am an author.