Until five years ago, I never thought I would find the time to write a novel until after I retired from my “responsible career.” My whole life I’d had two dreams, become a defense attorney and an author. Like most aspiring authors, I started writing short stories and poetry in early middle school and then throughout my life I’ve started and restarted novels which never made it past a few pages. Life seemed to always get in the way of my second dream. I focused on my double majors in college. Then, there was law school, law review, and the bar exam. Of course, then I threw myself into my legal career and being a public defender doesn’t leave me with a lot of free time. And then the darkness came.
I still don’t know how I became one of the thousands of women trapped in an emotionally abusive relationship and marriage. Yet, almost twelve years into my first marriage, I was drowning. I hid everything from my closest friends and family. In many ways, I hid it from myself. Without anyone who knew what I was going through, I felt utterly alone.
Then, something strange happened. I had a dream. A dream so vivid and intriguing that I awoke the next day and frantically wrote as much as I could remember. It sounds crazy. I know. No matter how tired I was at the end of my work day, I wrote till I fell asleep at my computer. Every evening. Every weekend. For a year, I wrote. It was a compulsion, the characters and scenes demanded to be given life.
And just as sudden as I started the novel. It was finished. Eighty-Thousand plus words. Twenty-five chapters. What now? I asked myself.
I’d done it. I’d set free the characters of my subconscious in creating my own world of science fiction and fantasy. What was next? I didn’t have a clue how to try and get my novel published. But, I knew one thing. It was time to free myself. And I did.
For the next three years, I left my novel untouched. I’d crafted it in the darkest part of my life and it was a painful reminder of the years I allowed to erode my core.
Then, one day I thought, I am proud of what I’ve accomplished. I worked too hard to leave the novel sitting on the proverbial electronic bookshelf. The past was a shackle of my own creation.
In May of last year, I broke the chain, I clicked on the icon, and feverishly started editing the book and preparing it to be sent to a publisher.
I know it’ll be a long journey to publishing my novel. This is the beginning. Still, out of the darkness of my life, I crafted something beautiful and unique. Someday, I will share it with the world.