Writing a novel is not something that I am completely new to. I’ve been writing, on and off, for several years now. Switching from typing, to handwriting in journals, to thinking about writing and never writing. I think I always knew that I would come full circle and be back where I started, writing for me.



So I’m writing. Well, I’m thinking a lot about writing. I’m making character sketches and mind mapping information about my characters. I’m answering questions and giving them a past that I hope will one day help them create a new and better future for themselves. I’m spending all my time, while I’m running, while I’m working, while I’m watching my students work, thinking about these characters.

I’ve spent a lot of time working on one character before, but I feel like the reason my last novel attempt didn’t go like I wanted it to is because my characters weren’t real enough. My main character was me in a perfect world. She really had no flaws, making her someone I would aspire to be like, not someone that I could relate to. These characters feel so much closer to my heart because they have problems and issues and they don’t always handle with care. Their story needs to be heard, and I just happen to be the one listening.



Joel Whittaker and Danielle Tyler better get ready, because their story is one for the books, my book specifically. So as I think and write about these two characters, and the wide range of friends that they have and enemies they will make and the choices that will either define them or break them, I know that this story is one worth finishing. When I’m knee deep into this story and I start complaining about how hard it is and how frustrated I am, I hope that this post brings me back to the reason I began this journey in the first place. This is a story that needs to be told, and I will be the one to do it.

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