For the first time since I was 18, I have some free time, I mean a big chunk of free time, a year or more stretches in front me with no need to work.
I started trying to write, something I've thought I'd like to do for years.
I didn't expect much, I thought I'd just play around, maybe try some fiction. I settled on a love story and blocked out a few characters and tried to come up with some cohesive guide to keep me on track.
So, I just started. At first, it was slow, but as I kept at it, the ideas and flow became easier. It was almost as if the story was writing itself and I was just the means for it to get on the page. The characters started growing in front of my eyes, developing their own quirks and unique phrases, the reasons for which I found later. I quickly came to think of them as if they were real and complete people somewhere in the world, and I was spying on their lives or channeling their thoughts.
It's only been four days, but now I can't stop. I'm writing the story constantly in my mind. It's distracting and lovely, and I may be falling in love with one of my characters, I suppose that's the ultimate narcissistic conceit, but it doesn't feel that way at all. She seems so real, and more so each day. I'm not creating her, I'm just discovering her, is how it feels.
I'm at 40,000 words, which I'm sure for some of you is just a day's effort, but for me it's more than I've ever written, and the story keeps coming. I'm only a quarter of the way through my overview.
I'm sure it's not much good, but I don't care, it's been so much fun. I know now why people write.
Thanks for reading, have a fun day.
Source: reddit post