MARCH 19, 2025

Unless you’re very new here, you already know that I read and I write a lot. I’ve always had a soft spot for a good story. I’ll occasionally earn an income from content writing on websites and social media, but it’s most often only for fun. For example, no one pays me to write this blog or the fanfiction that I put out. I still release updates of both every month.

For the first few months I was doing them, the same was true of my weekly reading recaps. Then it stopped being true. Truthfully, I didn’t think anyone would watch the videos or read the write-ups, but some people did. They started following along, and at times they would share what books they were getting hooked on as well. It reminded me how much of a community there is in the realm of literature, and I’m not only talking about social media spheres like BookTok. It’s a whole world.

My Home World

When I was in my teens and early twenties, a huge portion of my friend circle were writers. I’d met most of them in writing groups or at open mic events or poetry slams. That’s even where I met my now-partner. Over the years, I drifted away from a lot of gatherings and events, and those were included. While I didn’t lose touch with most of the people I’d connected with, we weren’t as close as we had been. These were some of the first people to comment on my posts about books. The moment I mentioned one of their favorites, they would appear out of nowhere for excited conversation. I realized how much I missed them, and how grateful I was to have an excuse to revive those friendships. Getting to read their writing early and give feedback was a well-appreciated bonus.

I so enjoyed having that sense of community back that I jumped at the chance to join a local book group. My local library hosts a “book chat” group. Unlike a book club where everyone reads the same pre-decided text, in this one we all simply show up and talk about our favorites that we’ve read since our last meeting. For a mood reader like myself, it’s absolutely perfect. I get the chance to gush over great books, and pick up a few new story suggestions as well.

The more I sank into the community of the literary world, the more comfortable I felt. I felt like I belonged. Having that sense of belonging instilled a specific type of confidence that I’d been missing for a long time.

Hearing the Call

Previously, I had largely been looking at my reading habit as merely a means of escapism. It does allow a brief reprieve from reality for sure, but that’s not all that I was doing it for. More often, I’m attempting to deepen my relationship with the world. I read plenty of non-fiction as well to better understand everything that takes place outside of myself, and the fiction that affects me most deeply is usually allegorical. In fact, there are studies that show that reading widely in this sort of fiction increases traits such as empathy and open-mindedness. It’s also associated with holding a more complex worldview, and improves our perception of reality. I’ve always believed in the healing powers of reading, and the transformational powers of literacy.

Slowly, the idea began to sink in. Books for me are a lot more than an escape. They’re a calling. When something feels so much like home, I have to consider it’s where I’m meant to be. From this place of comfort, where I felt supported, I was able to start taking some risks. I started off posting my reading recap videos and was surprised by the amount of positive response, so I kept going. My written reviews got more in depth, and I started spreading to more platforms.

From there, I started getting opportunities to read and review books ahead of their publication. I formed connections through that with professional readers and the authors. It was a revelation to realize they were all people just like me with that same shared obsession. That was what finally convinced me that I could actually do what I’d already started to.

Drafting the Story

Several times in my life now, I’ve tried to write a book. I’ve never gotten all the way through the process. The time I got closest, I got through the second draft of a book that was meant to be the first of a trilogy, but let the project fizzle out when I couldn’t figure out the next two installments. Aside from that, I’ve never even made it all the way through a first draft of a full-length novel.

That is, until last Sunday. This time, it was a standalone story idea I’d had for a while. Before I started putting the words down, I made sure I had an outline that could carry me all the way through. I kept my daily word goal low to make sure that I made progress every day. (I still missed a few days here and there.) Slowly but surely, it got done. It took me a few months, but I finished the first pass.

It still has a long way to go. There are still plenty of plot holes and inconsistencies. There’s more that I want to go back and add in, but I didn’t skip any scenes. It’s a full story from beginning to end, and now it’s just a question of making it a better one. I know it’s still a long road ahead from this point to publication, but I now feel like it’s a journey I’m prepared for.

I also know that I’m not alone.