I suppose the title is slightly misleading. I’m not going to say that I write because my head will explode from all of the ideas that I’ve got going on. No, my ideas come slowly.
I first started writing a little bit back in high school, but I wouldn’t say that it was a passion of mine. Books were my passion in those days. Namely books by one of the greatest YA authors to ever live, Christopher Pike.
If you haven’t read anything by him may I suggest The Last Vampire saga, now known as Thirst. The first two repacked books, volume 1 and 2, actually contain the original six books. The third, fourth and fifth books are entirely new, recently written works. I own all of them but have yet to read anything past the original saga. It’s not for lack of trying, I assure you. My TBR list is…well, extremely long.
Also, one last note on this, please ignore the book synopsis. Obviously Pike had nothing to do with the repackaging of the book. The synopsis on the first is aimed at typical YA readers seeking vampire romance books. Let me state that this book series is not about that. One more time, THIS IS NOT SOME SHITTY YA VAMPIRE ROMANCE NOVEL. This book is deep, and when the movie is made, if it’s anything less than rated R it has no hope of holding up to the book. The main character is brutal. And the books cover topics of Bi-sexuality, spirituality, teen pregnancy, addictions, bloody revenge and more. It’s intense.
*Steps off of soapbox*
Ahem, where was I?..
Writing. Not reading. Yes, of course.
So, basically I was too busy reading to even consider writing. I wrote two short stories in high school. One was in ninth grade and the other was in eleventh grade. The first was about a chick who defied her parents’ wishes, snuck outta the house and went for a motorcycle joy ride through the woods with her boyfriend only to end up splattered across the trunk of a tree, still alive with a severed spine. She got to watch the local wildlife eat her boyfriend’s dead body and then they started in on her. It was pretty gory for a fourteen year old to have written. My teacher loved it.
The second story was something about an angel coming down to earth to fight AIDS. Like, AIDS was a tangible globby, oozing mass of ickyness that she had to actually fight. She won but she also died saving the earth. The teacher also loved that one.
Both times my teachers read them in class I was mortified.
Fast forward to about two and half years ago. I have this dear friend of mine, named D, that I roleplay with. Get your mind out of the gutters, not that kind of role playing. Think Dungeons and Dragons, Werewolf: The Apocalypse, Shadowrun, and Vampire: The Masquerade. Except it’s done online and involves writing, a lot of writing and not as much dice rolling.
Anyway, he and I met when he crashed my RP that I was doing with another friend. Basically, he brought in one of his characters and threw them in my character’s path and the two of them collided into this beautiful, twisted, horrific mess. They worked so well together that I’m now writing a book about their dramatic, action packed, whiskey soaked, sarcasm fueled adventures.
I started writing again at his urging. We’re both so passionate about their insanely twisted story that it is the reason I’m currently writing. I have to tell it. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got other stories that I want to tell, but none are as dear to me as this one is.
My characters are not simply fiction. They’re real people living inside my head. They have good and bad days, lots of flaws, favorite songs, favorite movies, friends, enemies, favorite foods, their own sense of style, their own set of morals and desires. I write to tell their stories.
Interact With Us:
When did you start writing, drawing, painting, singing or creating your own beautiful works?
~*~ Listening to “In My Secret Life” by Leonard Cohen