Having just finished my MA in English Literature I am lost and have had little courage to admit to myself that what I really want to do with my life is write books.
I know, it sounds stupid even to me but it's what I want to do. Over the last three years, I have been living in my head for most of my days. My mum sometimes asks me what I am thinking about when I forget myself and drift off. My reply is always the same: "nothing". But the truth is I'm thinking of lots of things, I just lack the courage to admit to anyone that I want to write. I feel ridiculous saying it out loud..
I have no idea how other novelists come up with the characters in their books, but for me, it has been a somewhat bizarre experience of talking to them in my head. Sometimes I just get hit with something (this might be what is commonly known as inspiration, but I prefer to not give it a name so as to not ruin the magic), and I find myself talking to him or her. I sometimes argue with them, tease them, laugh at them, cry with them, feel everything with them until they become a real person in my head, until I can almost picture them sitting in front of me.
There are also times when I become them, walk like them, talk like them, eat like them, even sneeze like them. It is a strange thing to experience, particularly whilst sitting in a lecture trying to take notes and, you know, learn!
The day I submitted my MA dissertation was a strange day for me. I felt sick to my stomach, somehow convinced I had failed (I hadn't), and I think a large part of my anxiety was due to the realisation that I was officially done with education. (I'm still in two minds as to whether or not I want to pursue a PhD in the future).
That night, I lay in my bed, unable to sleep despite having been awake for two days already. I kept thinking about getting a job, any job just so I wouldn't look like a 22 year-old bum living off her mother.
I would like so very much to pursue a career in publishing simply because I know that if I can't be a writer (I don't delude myself by thinking I'm good enough to be a published author let alone a successful one), I want to be around books. I want to be have my hands or rather, my brain, my knowledge, and passion for books to be a part of some other author's success. As long as I am there, I can be happy knowing that I am doing something with my life that I love. I want to look forward to going to work in the future, knowing that I get to do something I love.
See? I'm barely out of my life as a student and I am already worrying! I can't help it!
But back to that night, I felt lonely. Probably more lonely than I had felt in a long time. My sister is away a lot at university and I didn't want to bother her again with my insecurities. She has always been my personal cheerleader, building me up when I feel down and believing to the ends of the earth that I will someday forge a career in books. No one can tell her otherwise, not even me.
To my surprise, however, my loneliness bore a character, actually two characters. By the following day I had 10 characters and a series of 5 books already, and this later turned into 6 books! It was amazing to me that out of such feelings of hopelessness came something I could focus all of my energy onto. I started to write, sending draft after draft to my number one fan, my sister of course, to read. I managed to write 10 chapters in 5 weeks. It is slower than I wanted but I know that I can do it. And that is all I will say specifically for now about what I will refer to as the O series.
I love my characters. I love them deeply as though they were friends of mine that I have forged a lasting relationship with. To this day, only my sister has read any of it. She hounds me if I don't write quickly enough so that she can find out what happens next (I purposely leave each draft with a mini cliffhanger just to annoy her). It is gratifying that she enjoys my writing. If nothing else comes out of it, I at least know that I did it and can be proud of my work, and that just because I am not a published writer it does not mean I am not one.
This month I am taking part in NaNoWriMo and the first book of the series that was born that night has been put aside so that I can take part. I miss my characters but I know that they will still be there when I come back to them. They still talk to me and I carry around the notebook I now treasure that my sister gave me to keep all of my notes in for when they pop into my head for a chat sometimes.
My NaNoWriMo novel is going really well and I have decided to upload a diary of my progress which I am very excited about. If nothing else, the diary will help me to stay disciplined and write daily.
On 1st December, when I return to my O series, I think I'll do the same for it too!
I am excited, scared, and just in case you want to know, not at all worried that I hear voices and talk to them!
;) Wish me luck!
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