I never thought I could…
I never thought I could write a novel.
Oh, I wanted to! I’ve wanted to write for as long as I can remember. Before I began school, I would have my mom and my older siblings make practice letters for me to trace. I longed to write, even if I could only trace the alphabet.
In grade school, I loved participating in the Young Authors program each year. Even though I was never artistic so my illustrations left much to be desired, I so enjoyed planning and writing and putting it all together; and I loved going to the big gathering and sharing my “books” with other kids.
In high school, I wrote quite a bit — poetry, journal entries, pieces for the school newspaper, and I began writing stories. I even once (kind of notoriously, to be honest) write a story for a friend of mine… with medium blue Bic ink on a roll of Quilted Northern.
Writing has always been a crucial element of my existence, and yet, I never thought I could write a novel. Writing stories for friends is one thing; writing a novel is a horse of a different color.
I had the distinct pleasure of working on one of my final Wicket Lake scenes this weekend. It surprised me to realize how close I am to completion of my first draft. While much editing and revision will be necessary, I was delightfully surprised to see how the story has worked out.
It has not been easy thus far, and rewriting promises much angst. Still, I never thought I would make it to this point — to having written a novel. It just reminds me that sometimes we are our own barrier to success.
Whatever it is you think you cannot do…
Whatever your fear says you cannot do…
Whatever society expects you cannot do…
From the shores of Wicket Lake,
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