Inspiration is absolutely everywhere to me, and at some point, my brain couldn’t contain it any more. I wrote the first words in English (which isn’t my native language) on 27th of December 2020. It was basically an image that had popped into my head and the story unfolded from there. I had absolutely no idea where it was going when I started, I just knew that I had to write it down. And it was fun and I liked it. I kept writing and has done so ever since.
I’ve been writing all of my life on and off. When I was a child, I usually made drawings to accompany my stories. And when I made drawings, I told a story out loud at the same time – much to my parents amusement, of course. (Thank God there was no Social Media back then!) Writing has often been at outlet to me – a diary of frustration when I was getting divorced, dramatic poetry when I was a teenager, and now it’s something I do whenever I can.
I had absolutely no idea, what I wanted to be, so no. Not at all. I’m not a full-time writer yet, but now – at the ripe age of forty-eight – yes, I can see it.
In high school I actually had a friend who one day, when I was acting strange (it happens) told me that I’d end up living in the country side, painting, and writing books. I know he meant it as a threat because to him that was actually the worst thing that could happen to a person. He was kind of perplexed, when I told him I thought that sounded amazing!
I recently got reacquainted with my best friend in high school, and when I told her, I had written a few books, she just looked at me and said “I told you.†Obviously, back then there was no doubt in her mind, that I would end up being an author.
Since writing isn’t my full-time job, I don’t feel the pressure a full-time author would at all. But the frustration is there and I’ve certainly had days where I desperately wanted to write something – but couldn’t. I’ve come to accept that there are days where I can’t come up with a single word – and there are nights where I write 20 pages without even breathing. Those pages are often the ones I like the most afterwards. So basically: write whenever you can and when you can’t – do something else. The inspiration will come back to you.
I’m not a full-time writer (yet), but so far, I can only tell you that’s it worth it. Drink a lot of coffee. Take deep breaths. Admit when you need a break or need to recharge. Sleepless nights will not go on forever – trust me, I know. Complain and whine to the people you trust and accept the hugs and the soothing remarks (even though you absolutely hate it at the time). The stress and the obsession will level out – believe that you can do this!
