August 12, 2017, was my official start date for writing my first book. I posted it on Facebook for all the world to see (only four friends noticed the post), but there was something about publicly stating it that made it real. I knew I had a year before I was reminded of this declaration since Facebook has this bad habit of notifying you of old post and memories on the yearly anniversary. It would either be something that I was proud to look back on or evidence of my failure as a writer.
First a little background on me. I have been writing for over ten years. Mostly screenplays. A few options from studios here and there, a meeting with a "prominent" producer with some IMDb credits, or I was hired as a freelancer to write a script (emphasis on the free). It was exciting at times but overall frustrating. I had just completed another screenplay that would probably never see the light of day when I realized that I had developed my writing skills to a level where I could potentially write a book.
I got to work soon after, and it helped that I had a story in mind that I had been developing for six years. This idea came to me while I was bored at work, and decided to escape into my imagination. My coworkers hate this lousy habit of mine. I attempted to write the story when I originally came up with the concept, but my limited writing experience hindered any chance I had of communicating the tale in a satisfying way. I put the story and its characters on the shelf where they collected dust for the next five years. I promised myself that I would someday return with the capability of finding a viable adventure for those heroes to go on.
Years of studying great writers, reading their material, and practicing my craft gave me the confidence I needed to attempt the first draft of my novel. It helped that the setting and subject matter was something that I had been interested in since childhood, which was Greek mythology. I've always enjoyed the legends of old and the Greek's created some of the best myths humanity has ever known. Their heroes are immortal, but the adventures they go on could use an update.
Over the next eleven months, I wrote and edited more words than I ever thought I was capable of producing. There were days when I would stare at my blank computer screen and wanted nothing more than to quit. It takes a lot of dedication and free time to work on something that may not find an audience, but I was determined to finish my delusional endeavor. Having read my manuscript several times over, I am relieved that it turned out far better than I expected. It might even be good. There's a part of me that wants to release my novel posthumously, but I'm going to try to find a publishing house to distribute it or self-publish before the end of 2018. I will post another blog about the next step in my journey as a new author. Wish me luck.
