I think I’ve seriously wanted to be a writer since about eighth grade. I was a voracious reader pretty much since I was four years old. As I got older, I not only wanted to live in other worlds and lives, but I wanted to live in worlds of my own devising, so I could make sure that things worked the way I wanted them to. But various things hindered me, the largest of which was a complete lack of self-confidence.
It was easy for me to see for many years that, despite my good grades in English and writing courses, the things that I wrote didn’t have the power to transport me to their worlds. Combined with the idea that I could never finish anything by myself, I spent most of my life feeling hopeless about writing.
But last year I got a bug. (As well as a dose of mania.) And that passion pushed me past my roadblocks, pushed me past the ‘I know something is wrong but I don’t know how to fix it,’ and pushed me past my doubts and psychological hangups (aside from being obsessive about Benedict Cumberbatch. That’s still there.). And last night, I finished the first ‘book’ I have ever, ever finished.
Yes, it’s fan fiction, so no, it will most likely never be published. And yes, it still needs some editing. But it’s DONE. And I am so excited and proud of myself that it’s like drinking a full case of diet Dr Pepper, because I couldn’t get to sleep until sometime after 2 this morning and I couldn’t sleep much past 6.
And while I was pondering this this morning, I remembered this quote from Elder Jeffrey R. Holland:
To any who may be struggling to see that light and find that hope, I say: Hold on. Keep trying. God loves you. Things will improve.
And it made me cry. Because it’s true.