When you ask an author when they started to write, they’ll say the usual, “I’ve always been a storyteller,” or some other vague, profound answer. That’s not the case for me. I had always been a reader, but writing didn’t seem worthwhile until I began to read stories made by my peers. 

These stories sucked me in, telling me fantastically unrealistic twists of our reality while depicting flat, boring characters. Poorly written, filled with tropes and clichés, and horribly formatted on an app that had me under its spell, reminding me that anyone could write on their platform. Anyone. 

While I truly believe anyone has the talent to write and everyone has a story to tell, they just lack the craft or motivation to do it, that couldn’t be said for teenage me. I had to prove that I could write a better story. I spent hours writing stories, just as poorly written and horribly crafted as my peers. I posted them, proud of what I had accomplished, thinking the few hundred words I spent hours crafting was the next JK Rowling. (In hindsight, I am so glad I no longer strive to be like JK or any other author. I’d rather pave my own literary career than try to mimic the success of one.) How far from the truth that had been… 

It doesn’t really matter how a writer starts, though. What makes a writer different from someone who likes writing, is the will to sit down and let go. There are thousands of users on that app that spent years writing stories just to write, but they stopped. They haven’t picked up a pen or opened a word doc with the idea of creating a story to post since.

It’s also the most difficult aspect of writing. Some would say coming up with a new, original idea, but breaking through the fog of writer’s block or lack of motivation is a writer’s true downfall. 

The past few months, I’ve spent most of my free time writing. Mostly fun, little prompts to get the juices flowing and to work the writing muscle. It hasn’t been easy, balancing other projects and work with a social life. I have goals that I try to meet, deadlines that I strive to, and of course, the end dream of one day publishing my manuscript. 

Camp Nanowrimo starts tomorrow. I’ve always found the Nanowrimo project to be motivational, if only to get me to put words on a page. With Camp, I can set my own goal, choose the pages, the hours, the words that I want to create in the month of July. I can even join a cabin, to meet other writers in the same genre, age range, or region as me to cheer each other on as we all write together. 

It’s as cheesy as it sounds. It works for the first week, somewhat of the second, and then… Poof! I won’t think about it again. 

This year, I’d like to really give it a go. I’ve won them before, just barely making the deadlines, but this go around I’m striving for higher. Instead of the usual 50,000 words, I’d like to aim a little higher. Or… right at 100,000.

It’s an outrageous goal. It’s happened before, where I’ve written that much in the span of two months for one project, but never in a month. 

I’d like to take you on this journey with me, to see if you can hold me accountable without all the gushy rainbows and vain commentary that comes with generic writing groups. I hope you’ll join me and maybe decide to sit down, pick up your pen or open a word doc, and let your mind go to another world only you can see. 

Let it all go and write.