It took several years and five manuscripts for me to realize that I am a writer. At the time I wrote for myself and never considered getting published. I thought I can only call myself a writer when I’m published. Now I know I’m a writer, because I do just that, I write.
I wrote my first novel—one hundred pages—when I was sixteen. Some writers started earlier, I did too, but instead of writing the stories down on paper, I wrote them in my head. One day I did it. I extracted those stories from my head and put them on paper. I could finally create the stories I loved to read. At eighteen, I wrote my first two hundred page romance novel. I wrote a few more after that. Now I’m ready to show others my work.
At the moment I’m busy editing a contemporary romance novel, which I hope gets published in the near future. I’m sending off some query letters in about two weeks.
On this blog, I’ll post reviews of some of my favorite novels as well as occasional moments from my life as a writer.
Let’s read, let’s write, let’s create moments.