I was flabbergasted when I began telling people I was an author.
“Really? I’ve always wanted to write a book.”
“I have an idea for a novel. Do you think it’s publishable?”
“Me, too! Would you read my first draft?”
“Are you in a writer’s group? Can I come?”
Budding writers seemed to pop out of the woodwork around every corner. Just the other day, my neighbor shyly handed me his self-published dark fantasy novel and asked if I’d leave him a review.
As I’ve met, read, and encouraged these new authors, a realization dawned on me. Most of them have no idea what it’s actually like to be an author. (I sure didn’t when I began.) What budding writers often picture is an ideal—someone who writes 25 hours a day at a spotless desk in perfect quiet, every sentence and every scene perfect the moment it hits the page. And then, the budding writer despairs—because who can live up to that?
I sure don’t, and I’ve been writing fantasy for over two decades. I’ve submitted manuscripts, published some short stories, and right now I’m in the middle of a 5-book passion project that I’m releasing independently. The writer’s life—my writer’s life—is far messier and far more rewarding than the ideal.
That’s why I started this blog: to strip away the gilding of perfectionism that halos the author’s life. I wanted to showcase a real writer’s life—with all its typos and sporadic word counts, the eraser crumbs and the pencil shavings, the agonizing hours drafting and the even longer hours editing.
If you’ve ever felt daunted by the myth of the ideal writer, I hope you’ll find courage here—or, at the very least, glimpse the solitary, chaotic, wonderful life led by the mysterious creature known as the author.
