No, I’m not getting published. I couldn’t be further away from being published if I tried. What I want to talk about is dreaming of becoming a real author. I’m sure this is a dream many of my readers have and one I certainly share, but the trouble is, I’m struggling.
When I was 20 years old I wrote a prologue and the first 5 chapters of a book titled Doors That Lead to Nowhere. I posted it on the website Wattpad and it was read over 10.000 times! I was so happy, I thought my dream was coming true. People were actually reading my work and giving me the most fantastic praise. However, after the fifth chapter of the book I stopped. I was going through some emotional problems at the time and I became very low, self-destructive even. A wise lady once told me that I suffer, like so many of us do, with the problem of self-fulfilling prophecy. Whats that? Well, we start to believe that what we are doing, what we have created is no good, that it wont lead anywhere. We can’t believe that ourselves are capable of creating something of worth and what do we do? we sabotage it. That’s exactly what I did. By giving up I fulfilled the prophecy I had created in my head, that I was no good, that I would never become a published author.
The truth is, I’ve come to terms with the fact I’m not a great writer.Very few of us are if we’re are truthful. But, that shouldn’t stop me from writing or dreaming and it shouldn’t stop you either. Stories are told all sorts of ways and just because a few of us are able to have their work printed on paper doesn’t mean the rest of us are any less important. If you love making up stories then bloody keep doing it. Maybe they won’t ever get published, but that’s no reason to stop doing something you love. That’s what has taken me almost five years to learn. I should do it because it makes me happy and for no other reason than that.
So, with that said. I’ve decided to go back to Doors That Lead to Nowhere and actually finish the story. I mean, I read it now and I don’t find it to be very good, but hopefully I can change that. I just feel that I have unfinished business and the only way I’ll ever develop as a writer is to keep writing and to finish things. Sorry this has been a bit of a rant, but it’s something I wanted to share with you guys and something I needed to write out instead of having it buzzing around in my skull. I’m going to start blogging about my writing, the highs and the lows, and hopefully I can share these experiences with other book lovers and writers out there.
Anyway, in case any of you wanted to check out Doors That Lead to Nowhere I’ll post a link to it below. I’ll also paste in the prologue for any of you that don’t want to venture on to Wattpad, but want to have a read of the first story I ever wrote.
Keep reading, keep writing, keep creating.
Prologue – Wings
…Never before had the city been breached. Never before had a shadow intruded upon its light. It has fallen. And all which stands between the beginning and the end is lost. The darkness runs deep now. The tide of chaos approaches. It is swallowing us. Forgive me, forgive us all.
These were the last words ever to be written in the Library of Seven. Vascar rolled up the paper tightly and tucked it firmly between two ancient texts resting on the stone table. The silence was fractured by the thunder of another pillar collapsing.
“I must hurry,” he murmured and stood up sharply drawing his dagger from its sheath. “The others will be waiting, there isn’t much time.”
With a crash the grand library doors flew open, and for the first time Vascar could see the true horror of the wraiths that wished him dead. The blackness poured in, shrieking as a hundred limbs twisted and clawed at the air, desperate to hold him. Vascar’s wings expanded as he raised his head and began to ascend. Engaging such numbers in combat would be suicide. No glory would be won this day. No great victory achieved. The battle was lost, escape was the only option, and escape was in the form of a window.
Vascar soared skywards towards the apex of the roof. As he rose he could see that what was at first a hundred had transformed into a thousand shapeless creatures all frantic in their blood lust. Waves of fangs and fear flooded through the doorway, their dark bodies masking the marble floor below. The guardian glanced down into the abyss beneath him, the mindless rabble like a bottomless pit ready to swallow if he was to fall. With every beat of his wings the window grew closer but so did the darkness. The creatures scurried up the walls tearing at each other, each trying to be the first to sink their hatred into Vascar .
The walls of the dome began to curve in as all of the sides met the glass circle at its summit. The creatures screamed with sheer elation, they knew that if they reached the window before him he would be theirs to devour. Vascar knew this too… Fast approaching the window he raised his dagger above his head and shielded his eyes with his hood. In a matter of seconds he would have his escape. Screams filled the hall as several of the monsters leapt from the wall hoping to latch onto the guardian and halt his departure. But their attempts were in vain. With a harrowing smash the glass shattered as Vascar’s dagger pierced the panes and he broke into the cool, dusky air of the evening.
Vascar did not look back towards the library until he was several hundred feet above it. The black creatures spilled out like ants of the small hole that had been his liberation, smothering the rooftops in their decay. For the first time since the attack had begun he allowed himself to grieve. This was his home, where he had lived, where he had loved.
“This is no more.” he spoke softly “I must meet the others, the Elders need to be warned.” And with one last mournful look at the ruins that were his memories, the winged overseer turned and made haste to find them.
“The Gateway must not fall.”