How Did I Become a Writer?

I found the DIY MFA website a few weeks ago and have been loving digging around in there.  When the email came out about a Book Club with writing prompts hit my inbox I was fascinated.  Hesitant to add more to my schedule but fascinated all the same.  I decided to bite the bullet and sign up.  Beside, who cares if I get behind as long as I enjoy it and learn something along the way.  So without further ado, prompt 1:

My Writing Origin Story

I have always been a writer.  Even as a child I had a vivid imagination.  I would day dream and play pretend all day.  I remember being obsessed with Davy Crocket and taking my cousin on many adventures through the wild frontier.  I have little books I wrote in elementary school and various poems published from high school.  I have had many attempts at a blog.  None were successful but they all have brought me experience and happiness.

Writing a book was not something I ever really gave much thought to. I love writing poems and making up stories in my head. But to write a book seems so big.  Yet it hit all of a sudden and I knew it was something I have to do.  Just the act of preparing for that book has brought me joy.  The jotting down of notes, the planning of characters and the creating of worlds.  Even if my book never goes beyond my computer I am a writer.

I found a new website.

Photo by on Unsplash

I like books. I like to read them, hold them, and smell them. I also like to read them on my Kindle (I know, that’s sacrilege to book readers sorry guys) I like throwing 200+ books in my bag and heading out the door. Fiction, Non-Fiction, Fan-Fiction, Science Fiction, Self-Help, Cereal Boxes. My requirement appears to be words. I have way too many books to read at the moment yet thanks to BookBub I continue to grab more. My mother and my aunt tell me life is too short for bad books. I still maintain I have found less than a handful of truly bad books. I’ve seen bad writing, I’ve seen dumb plots, and I’ve seen books who should have been edited by someone older than a toddler before being released. Even still, those books were rarely so bad I couldn’t finish them and find something to enjoy.

I like reading on my Kindle. I like throwing 200+ books in my bag & heading out the door.

And now, despite all the things I should be doing, I find myself playing around online. (Twitter and Pinterest killed my focus). I discovered Wattpad today. What is that about? Will it connect me to readers or will it connect me with more things to read? Is it wrong that I consider either a win? It could turn into yet another time suck much like Pinterest and Twitter but it’s a risk I will take.

My friends and I have the worst book club ever (we barely remember to use it) on Facebook but I am doing a challenge where I read 26 different books this year. That’s kind of a joke since I have read well over 50 already but these are specific books. I think I may do something fancy and do a review of at least a few of them on the blog just so that I am not reading them for no real reason. I also started working on a bullet journal for my writing. We will see how well that works out. At least I will have important things altogether if nothing else.

Now I will leave you to go check out WattPad and spend time in my cold medicine induced stupor.