Every couple of years I get this urge to write a blog. This time, I’ll stick to it, I would say, every time. But I never do. I have a distractable mind and in a world full of things, finding new distractions and ideas is as easy as breathing. Yet, sometimes breathing isn’t so easy, is it? (FYI, I am supposed to be making summaries of chapter 11 of my book as I’m writing this blog.)
I’ve come a long way I realise as I look back on the past 12 years. Almost exactly 12 years ago I picked up a book so terrible, after finishing it I told myself if this book can get published, so can I. I was not a reader but discovered Twilight in 2008 and I thought to myself, if this is what books are, I’ve been missing out. So I set out to find other books that gave me the same feeling. Say what you want about Twilight, but it had something about it that other books of its kind didn’t. Sitting on the beach of Victoria Bay, I wrote my first pages at the end of December 2009, and man, I had no idea what that would effect. I finished the draft for my first novel, named Charmed Vigilance, by November 2010, with a staggering word count of 127 000. What was more impressive, is I had done it all by hand. I didn’t have a computer, so by the end of writing, I had to type all of it out. Did I mention I was studying civil engineering full time at the time as well? Ballsy, you might think. Impressive, you might say. Stupid is the word I’d use. It dragged my four-year B. Eng into seven. Hell, every step of the way. And the more the flames burned me, the more I wanted to escape it by… writing. Ouroboros.
Of course, I had the hubris of youth and novice and thought my book was the best thing ever. Let me rephrase that: I thought my first draft was perfection. Boy, I’ve come far. I ended up self-publishing somewhere in 2012, but a good friend had the grace to message me and said though the story is great, the writing needs work and is not publish-ready. Looking back now at the age of 32, having gone through my first heartbreak and the first death of a close friend, I realise it would’ve been ill justice to the story if I’d clung to my arrogance. This year I rewrote it all. All 147 000 words of it, and I’m so proud of it now, even though it still needs work. This year I’ve realised the great value of small disciplines. I read somewhere Terry Pratchett set himself a goal of 400 words a day, which is very achievable. Most days I did above 800. My best day was 3200. And this works for most things in life. Reading, exercise, cleaning. Just a little bit a day amounts to great things. Humans aren’t good at understanding compound growth. The same goes for negative habits though… Yea, maybe you’re only on social media 2 hours a day. But that’s 14 hours a week. 56 hours a month. The little things add up or subtract. Do we really not have time?
This is my passion project, I’ve come to realise and accept. I don’t expect anything to come from it. I expect no reward or return on investment, but I want to live this out. I’m even going to do an illustrated version because of AI (As pictured above), which I wouldn’t have been able to do 12 years ago. My brother is sight-impaired but supportive, and I don’t want him listening to a robotic voice narration. So, I will also try my hand at narration. But this is just for me.
Skylar Dietsche 