So, let’s say that, now that I’ve posted a few things, you’ve decided to follow my blog, or at least read it once and a while. Since I’ve managed to suck you into a little corner of my madness, let me tell you a bit about how I started writing, and how it ties into this class now.

I began seriously writing when I was twelve, almost thirteen. Now, let me tell you that I love cats, I think they’re excellent and most of the cats I’ve had are very loyal, lovable creatures. So, when that past fall-winter I lost three kittens from one litter, I was extremely upset and thrown into an emotional upheaval. The reason this is important, is because that was the event that sparked the writing of my books. Except, I never planned to write a book, I planned to write a short story, or something of the sort, so that my three kittens (and their one living brother) would never be forgotten.

I still remember the day I realized I was writing a novel. It was summer, and I had just turned thirteen. I was writing along in my word document when I looked down at the page count; fifty. Fifty pages. I ran downstairs and announced it to my parents. My story was fifty pages, and not even near finished yet.

In the end, the story had one hundred and thirty-three pages in a word document, and 35,281 words. Not bad for a thirteen-year-old. It took me three months to write. My deceased kittens and their one living brother became my main characters; Toto, Caspian, Dorthy and Mozart the Meerkitten. After finishing the first book I promptly went on to write a second, about another litter of kittens that had recently been born at my house, and that took another three months. A third book followed, taking slightly longer than the last two. The series culminated in the fourth book, which took far longer than any of the others to write. I finished it when I was sixteen and it has two hundred and eighteen pages, or 85,586 words. My fourth book is probably the best thing I have ever written, and it is certainly my favorite.

After that I realized that I ought to go back and edit my books before I wrote any new ones. My grandpa gave me the brilliant idea of simply re-writing at least the first two, because simply editing them would have been nearly impossible. For being written by a child, my books were impressive, but as I’ve gotten older they’ve become more and more cringe worthy. Still, they exist; my ideas are on paper and I can make them better.

This is the reason I’m taking a publishing class, and why my major is writing. My first book is on its second rewrite now, and I want to get it published as soon as possible, and so I’m pretty pleased to be learning about the process this semester. Unfortunately, as I’ve primarily practiced writing as a novelist, it’s pretty hard for me to write a five-page, double-spaced short story, though it is a good challenge.

So there you have it, my writing journey in a nutshell.