Why write a novel?
I didn’t start out as a writer—my chosen career was less adventuresome—I was a CPA! I majored in Accounting/Information Systems in college and started at one of the big Eight accounting firms soon after I graduated. Then I married, raised three children, switched to part time, over-volunteered, and before I knew it, my kids had all gone off to college and beyond. I finally allowed myself time to pursue my dreams. But what were they? Where were they? Somehow I had lost whatever dreams I had as a young woman. So, I started dreaming again, anew. And that’s how I decided to try my hand at the keyboard.
My mom read aloud to us as kids, I found solace in reading as a teen, and I continued the tradition of reading aloud to my kids. Reading felt easily attainable, but creative writing?! As I shared in my Audacious Dreams blog, I was inspired to start writing through authors sharing their experiences at my kids’ high school’s literacy festival. As I sat in the audience listening to keynote authors share about their writing life, I began dreaming that I too could be an author. I went to a writing conference nearby at the University of North Texas (my alma mater) and spectacularly failed at memoir writing. So, I gave up on my writing dream for a few years. My elderly parents moved nearby and required care. Life went on. I stayed busy, not writing.
When I found my grandmother’s memento box of when she traveled with the Swarthmore Chautauqua circuit years before my mom was born, my dream of being a writer was re-ignited. The box was filled with many loose photos, several programs, yellowed newspaper clippings, and a black papered scrapbook with cute sayings and grainy black and white photos. As I continued to pull out items from the blue striped box (I can still see it in my mind’s eye.) At the very bottom I discovered her copy, with penciled markings, of The Art of Whistling, a whistling instruction book written by Agnes Woodward in 1925.
I had no idea what Chautauqua was, I didn’t know my grandmother had been on the road with a circuit for 2 years and had no idea she played the trombone—yet here was a 5x7 sepia photo of her holding one! Unfortunately, she died in 1973 and by the time I found this treasure-trove, my mom’s dementia was too far along for me to get any answers. I spent days Googling Chautauqua circuits, concert whistling, and Agnes Woodward. I looked up the other performers listed in the programs. Before I knew it, I had a main character, her Versatile Quintet friends, (the name taken from the programs) and an idea of a story. And I started typing. I didn’t have a clue where to start or how, but I just let the story flow out of me. After forty pages or so, I decided I needed some help. So, I looked online for a small group writing workshop. I found one out in California and figured I could tie in a visit to my son who lived in San Francisco.
But fate intervened—mud slides closed the facility where the workshop was scheduled so it was canceled. Not to be deterred; I scoured the internet searching for another workshop that was the same week and on Southwest Airlines’ flight path (I wanted to exchange my ticket.) I found one in North Carolina, hosted by two experienced leaders and limited to six people that still had openings. And SWA flew into a nearby airport—I’d have to rent a car and drive over an hour, but I could do that. I applied, sent in my first twenty pages and was accepted!
Weeks later as I drove along a winding two-lane road in my rented car, I got very anxious. I felt like a poser. I was certain all the other attendees would laugh at my writing. I almost turned around. But when I pulled up along a gravel driveway next to this beautiful southern home, a woman stepped off the wide porch to greet me. No waiting in my car to conquer my nerves this time. I hopped out of the rental car and muttered a weak “Hello.”
Fortunately, this workshop was a thousand times better than the one I attended years ago at UNT. The leaders explained their format for critiquing, which proved more positive and helpful. They truly wanted us to become better writers. And we did, especially me. Over the next five days, my story really gelled, I made new friends, and I grew in confidence. From there I attended several other workshops, took some online creative writing courses, and joined a writer’s critique group all while working on my novel. The characters lived with me, they spoke to me on my daily walks or while running errands or even when I read other books. I often left myself messages with story ideas. Soon I had a very rough first draft. And after much help from manuscript reviews, my writer’s critique group, and blood, sweat, and tears—it grew into a much better draft. And after more editing, beta readers, and still more tweaking (I’ve found writing to be more about editing than original writing!) I finally felt Whistling Women and Crowing Hens was ready to send out into the world.
My amazing book cover! Art by Alicia Feltman
It took me eight years to get here, but through it all I grew as a writer, and as a person. Writing is very vulnerable, yes my novel is fiction, but the saying “write what you know” is spot on. While writing my novel about a young woman’s coming-of-age, I was experiencing my own second coming-of-age. I didn’t intend to change my life by writing a novel, but that’s exactly what happened. I can’t wait to start the next one to see where it will take me!
Do you want to try your hand at creative writing? I encourage you to just do it—don’t let your inner critic convince you that you can’t. Or is there something else you’d like to try that’s been a dream for a long or short time? Give yourself permission to get started today! Don’t have a dream right now? Allow yourself to be open minded about what’s out there—who knows what box you’ll uncover!?
~Stay Curious and allow yourself to try something new!
Melora Fern
I got this typewriter thinking it would inspire me…turns out it is hard to type on a typewriter. It looks cute though!
