Fall(ing) in Love (with story)

Photo by Alisa Anton on Unsplash

I can’t move into the autumn months—feel the crisp air, smell rotting vegetation, mushrooms, and wetness, see sun-washed, yellow leaves against blue sky—without remembering when I fell in love with writing.

Fall 2014 marked the beginning of my passion for story, although I wouldn’t begin my first novel until one year later.

Even today, the scents and feelings pull me back to the medieval fantasy I started and never finished, that I was making up as I went along. The one I purposely started with a “dark and stormy night” opening. The one with horrible dialogue. The one with no conflict. The one with no character motivation. The one where I got bored with the main character and moved over to a side character who I killed, only to have come back to life a bit later.

There were a lot of problems with that story. But it didn’t matter. Because those were the moments, the words, the scents, and the imaginings that set me on an unmeasurable, life-changing trajectory. Those were the things that began to shape me into who I am now. Those were the things that brought me to the amazing community I call home.

Writing has been an incredible journey for me. It’s been full of joy, discouragement, fear, the thrill of making, and overcoming.

Five years later, I don’t see myself moving away from this any time soon. It’s been tough lately, I admit, but maybe that’s because some of the love has gone out of it. I need to get that love back. Writing is my duty, yes, but duty without love is slavery.

I need to fall (pun fully intended) in love with my work again.

When did you first realize you loved writing? Share it with me in the comments; I can’t wait to hear from you!

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“With freedom, books, flowers, and the moon, who could not be happy?” – Oscar Wilde

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