Did I always know...

I was wondering what to post about today since yesterday I had spent my morning at the car dealership getting my car worked on followed by a long skype session with the bestie who lives out of state. Ending the day with an epic headache (must make sure to eat food through the day, very important) I hadn't gotten to writing anything. So, here I am sitting in my usual coffee shop on the weekend with my manuscript ready to send out tomorrow to my editor wondering what to blog about. This past week a lot of people have posted some very personal blog that I think everyone can relate to -- battling depression, body issues, pushing off taking care of yourself in battling of reaching your dream, and also what self publishers are making. All very different yet all very personal.

Which got me thinking, should I talk about my own battles of the black hole that is depression, or my struggles of doubt, of body issues, of insecurity? I've pretty much have been honest on here about all of those this, cause of one reason, I have to talk about my demons to let them know that I know they are there. That I am their food. That I am also the one that can destroy them. (Thanks Laurell K Hamilton for that comparison. Wish I could take credit for it, but I'm not. It was totally that wonderful author).

Then I got to thinking I hear all these other authors talking about how they pretty much have always known that they wanted to a writer, in one form or another, but what about me? Did I always know that I wanted to write?

I remember wanting to be a lot of things growing up, but never once did I stick to one thing for most of my childhood. Though one thing is certain, I've always loved books. No matter how hard it was to read at times (thanks dyslexia), I still loved books. There is a great photo of me on a long roadtrip in our family van with me passed out with a book open on my chest with my pink chucks with tweety bird on them that the bottom read 'thats all folks". I've also had my Grandmother talk to my sister to about my reading Harry Potter for long hours to make sure that I knew the difference of reality and not. That wizards didn't exist and to her they were evil bad things. Gotta love the traditional Grandmother. But the fact was this I loved books. I was a horrible speller (still am), have dyslexia (Still struggle with it) and am easily distracted (oooo shiny object). But here's the thing I love a good story, period.

I've gone through the phases of wanting to be a vet cause I love animals, but can't stand seeing them hurt. I've gone to film school cause I loved the visuals of movies and that they can transport you to a different world (oh just like a good book). I've wanted to travel the world (Still do). I've wanted to be pretty much everything, but the gist of this I've always known I wanted to be apart of the creative world in one way or another. Let it be the logistic side of things or something else, I've always wanted to be a part of it.

I just never thought that I'd be the one doing all the creative writing developing aspect of things. The doubts of struggling with learning disabilities (dyslexia and all that goes with it) made me believe that I couldn't be good enough to be apart of that creativity. I know better now.

It wasn't until I was in college that a spoken word poet told me that I should write something during summer break that I was bored out of my mind for that I truly took up a pen. Though I will admit that it took me a while to realize that he didn't mean poetry. Thus that summer began my exploration of writing down an idea for what has over the years developed into my paranormal romance. Originally I thought it to be a book (or something of), turned into a screenplay (yup I learned quickly that I'm not good at writing those) and went back to turning it into a novel. Did I know that I wanted to publish it? Nope. I had no plans what so ever other than to do something creative with my time.

By the time I was finished with University I had almost finished a book, starting another, and with more notes of future work I still am not sure that I will get to them all. Like the rest of the college grads I struggled to find work. All in that time writing kept me sane. It kept my head above water as the black hole of depression was working over time to suck me in.

It was then that I realized this....I am a writer. I want to keep writing no matter where I end up in life I want to keep creating stories. And as more time went by with research and figuring out what goes into publishing I figured things out. That I will be a published author. That I want to have my work be in the hands of other, no matter how insecure I've been and will be of my work, I want others to enjoy it.

Since that moment say five years ago I knew. I knew then that I was going to be a writer. It was last year that I knew that I was going to be in the logistical side as well. I am going to be a business owner as well as writer.

Did I know that I was destined to write? No. Maybe in my subconscious I knew on some level. But it wasn't until adulthood or the beginning of where I began the search of who am I that found that I was destined to be a story teller.

There you go, my origin story into realizing that I was going to be a writer. It might have taken time to realize it, but I don't regret the journey I took to get here. And I hope that I can create stories that helped me escape reality when times were hard and end with a smile on my face.