DL Hammons, Alex J. Cavanaugh , Katie Mills, and Matthew MacNish should be thanked for hosting this blogfest! I love Origin stories in comic book series, but mine isn't nearly as exciting. But I love reading all of yours, so I thought maybe someone out there in the vast world of the Interwebz might be interested in mine.
Without further ado, The Origin of Prerna Pickett, Writing Extrodinare:
It all started on the day I was born...okay, maybe it was a little bit later than that. I spare you nitty gritty details. I've loved writing for as long as I can remember. Whether they were a mystery involving a classmate named Nevada, or cheesy love songs that made no sense. My mom is a poet. At one point she wanted to write a novel (she still wants to when she retires). So when I showed interest in the art of writing, she was more than encouraging. That's when I learned that you could write for a living. That making up stories was an actual profession! I went around telling my family and friends that I wanted to be an author when I grew up. It sounded magical.
Then as I got older I started thinking that it wasn't going to happen. I wasn't special enough to be an author. It seemed like a pipe dream. I continued to work on things, but never really took it seriously. Back in '04 I graduated HS and went away to college. My mom got me a brand new laptop and I felt quite fancy. One day I was sitting in my dorm room all alone, while my roommate was in class, and I decided to write down a story. It sucked. It sucked so hard I immediately deleted it. And even though I only wrote a thousand words at most, I felt absolutely ridiculous for thinking I could actually do something that had been calling to me from an early age.Three years later I got pregnant with my second little guy. That's when this overwhelming need to write started to take over. I couldn't push it away anymore, shove it into some dark place where dreams go to die.
So, I sat down and started the story that had been gnawing at me since high school. The words flowed from my brain to my fingers with more ease than I thought imaginable. I reread the words. They weren't half bad. Then I thought 'hmmm...maybe I shouldn't have given up so easily the first time.' The days that followed were filled with more words, coming at me faster than I could keep pace. And I never looked back.
What can you learn from my story? Don't give up so easily. Don't think you're not special enought to pursue your dreams. There's a reason you have that feeling eating away at you. And you'll never know until you've tried if it's worth it.