The reason why I decided to write

The reason why I decided to write

Long before I had begun to write, I had this amazing, vivid dream that made me think: Whoa. That was awesome. I should write it down. So I did just that. It was the freaking middle of the night and I opened my computer and typed away every little detail I could recall from the dream. It was a list of every person, name, event, clothing, place and feeling that were inside this strange film inside my head. When I finished the document, I closed my computer, went to sleep, and didn’t open that document until a whole year flew right before my eyes.

Writing had never been a huge idea of mine because I was the kind of person that preferred to read only. When I was in high school considering my options for my future, I considered jobs like flying for an airline or studying electronic engineering—the latter being the path I chose—but later I dropped out from the engineering life because I wasn’t too happy with it. I dug my nose even deeper into the world of books and the spark of writing was born after dropping out of college and falling into a depression.

This spark was small, but it grew exponentially once I discovered the year-old document on my computer. I read the detailed list, every single word of it, and I was like: “This could be a great movie.” Then I read it again, and said: “Or a book.”

If a story is in you, it has got to come out.

                                             -William Faulkner

So I opened up a new document and began to type away. I took the things from that list and created a world where four post-apocalytpic survivors struggle for their lives. They had to face the dangers of the world around them, plus, the personal problems that grew between them as they made their way toward somewhere “safe” where they could start all over.

During this phase of my life I knew that the spark that had gotten me into writing was never going to go out. As I wrote and wrote more pages, the spark burned into a blazing ember and it grew hotter and hotter, word after word.

A few weeks passed and I decided to drop the post-apocalyptic story, but I took one of the main characters (a girl that I really liked and had already developed well) and decided to start all over with a fresh story, with just her as the main character. I sat down to think of a great story; I paced, I ran my fingers through my hair, and bit by bit, a plot poured out from my brain into a few paragraphs on a sheet of paper and that was it. I began to write my new story with my character and there was no stopping me. From that point on, the blazing ember had grown into an eternal, scorching ball of flames and writing books was a thing that I would want to do until the end of my time.

So I began to write because of a dream I had. I know that the cliché is strong in that sentence, but it’s what happened. That dream—and I thank my brain for dreaming it—was responsible for this huge change in my path, and I’m glad that I dreamed that life-changing dream because I feel different now. The miserable life I had while studying engineering is left behind as an experience and I feel happy with the way things are going. I feel excited about life because I’m writing a novel and I have a few more ideas that I haven’t found in print already. I’m revising the bloody hell out of my novel’s drafts and I can’t wait to take the next step in having it published. All I have to do now is to keep on writing, because writing is what makes books.

“The future belongs to those who believe in the future of their dreams.” – Eleanor Roosevelt

-Ralph Serr

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