how stories find us

a look into minds, stories, and how they correlate with growth

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The first time I had an idea for a book, it came to me in a dream.

At that point, I’d never considered writing to be a path for me, but I frantically wrote for about a week straight, just running on reckless energy. Then I stopped, unsure where to go next.

I didn’t go back to this for another year and a half. When I opened the document, it literally made no sense. I attempted to plot it and figure out how I could get to point B from point A, but I couldn’t. Frustrated, I accepted that writing wasn’t for me.

One more year. I opened the document again. I finished the first draft and outlined the storyline into a trilogy. I wrote for hours after work, right into the dark. My headphones would run out of battery in one sitting. Then the draft ended but there were some things that didn’t quite fit and I lost confidence. I find it difficult to toe the line between fantasy and cheesy.

This echo of growth in writing is reflected through my own growth in life. I came up with the idea in a time where I was escaping into my mind. I dropped it because I only had the capacity to work on my mental health. I opened it again when my mind was quiet but my social life was low. And when I opened it that final time, I had been living at home for quite some time. There was a lot that wanted to get out. Plus, I’d grown. I’d been through my first friendship break ups, traveled the world, been in therapy, and began truly looking at myself in the mirror.