Updated: May 29, 2019
One day, a little girl had an idea. She sat down and started putting it on paper. She could hardly spell and stumbled over the words, but she didn’t give up. Her big, uneven, curly letters filled up a whole page, and she looked at it with satisfaction. She didn’t stop there. She drew characters and scenes, colored them, and cut them out so she could act out the story for her whole family.
That was only the beginning.
The little girl kept writing, kept creating characters, kept imagining and dreaming. She created a land for her favorite teddy bear. She created a world where the people had strange squiggles on their heads. She dreamed up candy lands and princess wars, so unbelievable that she stopped showing people out of fear that they would think she was weird.
That little girl started growing up, and all of her ideas seemed stupid and immature. Her little worlds of fantasy were nothing more than her trying to escape reality, she thought. She gave up on writing stories and her dream of one day becoming a writer. After all, who would read her strange ramblings?
For many years, the dream of writing was lost. She studied, worked hard, became better at other things, but she never lost her love of books and reading. When she read, she could leave reality and become part of the story.
But then one day, something sparked her writing fantasy. I believe it was a friend; a girl in class who shared her same secret fantasy of creating a story. The two of them would spend hours discussing plots and conflicts and couldn’t wait to share with each other what they had read or thought up the day before. And with time, that fantasy didn’t seem so distant. The girl started writing down ideas, and then the short stories came. And the song lyrics. And reflections on life. And one day the idea of a novel struck and stuck.
She knew she could do it. Others read what she wrote and said the same. Suddenly she didn’t feel so alone and outcast. Once again, her love of writing had returned, and this time it was stronger than ever before. She wanted to do it. And she could do it.
Now the day has come. Sharing her stories with the world has always scared her. They are pieces of her- parts of her soul are in the words and paragraphs you are reading. But what is the use of art if nobody sees it? How will it impact the world if it isn’t set free?
So this is the girl setting her imagination free. Sharing it with the world; with you. And while there is much to be improved, there has to be a start.
One day, this girl would have her dreams come true and share her thoughts with the world. And that day has finally come.