why did it take me so long?

Why did it take me so long?

 

I loved making up stories in my head as a child. I used to have an imaginary lion that went to school with me; he was my protector so I could cope with the world.

I was so painfully shy, but learnt to act and escape into books as much as I could.

 

 

 

 

 

I loved reading, the experiences, the worlds, the emotions and the sheer imagination of the writers blew me away. I still love reading :)

 

I applied to universities to read English and remember a wonderful interview when I chatted with the professor about why I'd written on my application that I loved reading anything from Dickens to Vonnegut. Time flew and he didn't have time to ask me any questions! I was offered a place.

Sadly I didn't get the grades.

 

 I decided to teach, as I had always loved being with children. I could identify with their imagination and creativity.

I had great fun teaching 4 and 5 year olds. We would read, make up and act out stories. I encouraged them to create their own stories and we had out own story book, where their stories were scribed by any adult that happened to be around when their story struck them.

 

 

I wrote and drew books for them and older children in the school.

 

With my own two boys on weekends and school holidays we often went walking. Into an adventure. Some walks lasted all day, we would go through portals to other worlds, cross angry rivers ( village lanes) and hide from the enemy (other walkers). We would hunt and cook our lunch – amazing how a sandwich can turn into a spit roasted rabbit or deer steak !

 

 

 

I sent ideas to publishers and received only rejections. I stopped trying, I told myself I was too busy to do more.

 

My job changed to being an advisory teacher and I was asked to write books and articles for early years publications. I was so proud when my first book was published- it wasn't quite my dream, but it felt good.

We left England for a different life, more time with our children rather than all hours jobs. I started to think more about book ideas.

I sent ideas to agents and received only rejections. I was too busy to persevere, my self esteem said it was a waste of time.

 

 

Then I received a kindle for Christmas and became aware that it was possible to publish my own book without costing anything but time and knowledge.

 

 

 

 

The story began evolving , especially on long walks and talks with my eldest son.

I began writing, but the story was missing something- actually it turned out to be someone - Ortie. So I began again.

 

I then gave myself a deadline and decided that I would publish a book before I was 50 and did it with a year to spare !!

Ok it still needs some editing, but it is out there.

 

So why did it take me so long?

I could say I didn't have time, but that's not true. There is always some time in every day.

The truth was - I was scared that I'd fail. I didn't believe I could do it. Didn't think it would be good enough. Wasn't sure I could deal with the criticism. This sound familiar to anyone?

But it is ok to be scared, and it is ok to make mistakes, after all we are human and we learn by making mistakes. And other people's opinions are important, how will I deal with reviews?

That's another blog!

And now I have unleashed the words upon the pages, there is so much more I wish to write. I will find the time to write, edit, create covers and illustrations because it is now part of my life..