The first thing I remember is writing short stories and drawing pictures in notebooks. I remember the thrill of having a book “published” every year at my elementary school (just like everyone else in my class).
Some people lose interest in telling stories, and for others, it remains a passion, even an obsession. And the latter is my story.
In middle school, I wrote countless unfinished novels. In high school, I was on the school newspaper staff, the literary magazine staff, I wrote stories and poems and was always scribbling phrases and ideas in a notebook. I wrote my first novel (unpublished). I started working on another (also unpublished, though I did try to get it published).
In college, I kept going. I wrote a novel about pirates (unpublished). I began to write nonfiction: movie reviews for a website, newspaper pieces about travel and expat life in Paris. I wrote another novel (unpublished). I kept writing short stories. I never let it stop.
I found a creative writing site with a great community and authors I respected. It was called EditRed, and it shut down, as I was going to find out so many such platforms out there do.
I kept going. I found another site, Open Salon, that became like a second home to me. I made friends, I read authors I admire, I learned things. I became a blogger, then, as time went by, a better blogger. And then, Open Salon shut down, too. Or, it will, in about a week.
I cried. I scolded myself for not moving on. I deeply regretted (to say the least) referencing my Open Salon blog in query letters and pitches I’d just sent out. And then, I kept going.
I searched for other blogging sites. Medium is the one that makes the most sense to me, that seems to offer, not only a place to share my thoughts, but also a place to read and comment on others’.
Will I someday think of this place as a virtual home, as well? Only time will tell.