Surprise!

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Dear Readers,

It's finally happened. Inwardly, I'm just bursting with pleasure! I have finally found all the inspiration I need to get a good head start on - drum-roll, please! - my own novel! After nearly six years of writing and rewriting the same story, I think I've finally found the path I want this tale to take.

    I want you to know, this is a difficult declaration for me; I take writing very personally. But this is one time when I finally feel completely confident; previous drafts have left me feeling like they weren't good enough, no matter how my family encouraged me. God gave me the most blessed talent of writing, so I can take most anything and turn it into a story, but since writing is so personal, I wanted to make sure this story was just right before I said, 'done'.

    I have to save the details for a surprise, but I will say that I have a title, I have most of the characters, and most of the story itself pent up in my head and ready to be poured out from my pencil onto some paper! Please pray for me as I begin writing this next draft; may it be my last draft, in a good way! ;)

    You know, I've been writing ever since I knew how! The first novel I ever started writing was the work of a nine-year-old version of myself, and quite honestly pathetic. It was about a princess who was kidnapped and had to save the world. I'm sure the idea I had could have turned into something marvelous and even has been done before countless times, but the way I had it written was... awful. But it was still the beginning of something wonderful in my life.

    When I was eleven, the inspiration for the novel I'm working on right now came to me in a dream. It was July, and I was visiting my grandparents for a weekend with my sisters. I woke up, got out of bed, and without even bothering to change into my day clothes, I sat down at my grandmother's typewriter and just started writing out what I saw in my dream. (Sorry, but I still can't reveal anything about that, because most of the main idea has survived from that first version until today.) This version was so short, it fit on only two pages of paper! I wouldn't let anyone look at it. It was my treasured story, and I knew I just needed to work at it a little to make it perfect. Well, more than a little.

    The next year, when I was twelve, I read over the story again and was so disgusted with how poorly it was written that I threw it away. (Today, I regret that because it would be great fun to read over and laugh about now, but I still fortunately remember most of how it went so that I can compare it to the present version.) I then started writing the second draft, which I have kept until today in that ragged black notebook. This, too, was perfectly dreadful. I read it over today and can enjoy it because I remember the love and passion I poured into it, but it isn't much better than the first draft.

    Over the next several years, I kept gathering notes of little ideas I had, and was writing and rewriting until my fingers were sore and black as my pencil lead. (Until now. The laptop is one of the most blessed pieces of machinery ever designed!) And now, here I am! With so much hope for the future, and a solid direction and purpose, I am commencing upon the next step of this fantastic journey.

    Writing. My passion, my love, my gift which the Lord graciously gave to me.