Now that I’m grown, I’ve figured out why I’ve been a writer for most of my life. I’ve used it as a coping mechanism to deal with my loneliness and sadness. I’d be so upset about my life, that I didn’t have super close friends or a wonderful, cute boyfriend and then I could write a story where I had all of those things and I’d feel better. Writing has helped me get out of some very dark times in my life.
Today, I can’t stop thinking about my books and I think it’s kind of weird. I’m starting to wonder if I’m sane. I think about my characters constantly and only the characters from my favorite/most polished/my masterpiece novel that for now is called ‘Breaking the Code.’ I change the title every week. That’s the novel that follows five friends living in New York City and the problems they face. My female lead Rania is the coolest girl ever. She’s mad smart and beautiful yet insecure and sweet. I wish I was like her. And my male lead Rashad… what can I say about him except that I’m in love with him.
I think about them all the time. If I’m listening to my iPod and I really want to feel a song and the emotion behind it, I try to fit it in to what happened in my book. There have been times where friends will be explaining things about their lives, or fights with their boyfriends and my mind will start wandering and I’ll be thinking about my book and how I could put that situation in to the story. My eyes will glaze over and I’ll say “Sorry, I was thinking about my book.”
When I’m at work, I look at people and think about my characters. For example, this weekend I saw a guy wearing shorts and the first thing that came in my head was “I wonder if Rashad wears shorts?” It’s so strange and I try to stop but I can’t. When I heard about that tragic murder of the young boy in Chicago, I wondered what Rashad would say since he’s all about the youth. When I went out to a bar with my friend I thought it looked just like the bar in my book and was looking around, resisting the urge to make notes. At night when watching TV with my mom I will go on rants about my story and things I want to do to change it or how one character felt when this happened. She’ll just nod and grunt at appropriate times, but just to have someone to talk to about it makes me happy. Thanks mom.
Maybe it’s a sign that I’m a true writer, dedicated to my book and my characters and always trying to improve the story by looking for real life experiences. Or it could show that I’m nuts and need real people in my life. What I know for sure is in all my years of writing short stories, there hasn’t been any characters that I’ve loved as much as the ones in this book. I’ve already written two books with these characters and I’m already thinking about the third and final one.
Writing is my madness, my blessing and my curse, the one thing that I’ve never been able to shake. Hopefully all of this will pay off one day and other people will love my book as much as I do and it will be a huge success. But even if it doesn’t, my novel is my own personal triumph and no one can take that away from me.