There was a girl who liked to tell stories. She spent most of her days locked in a room with her fingers attached to a keyboard. By her side were giant mugs of fatigue-fighting coffee and countless pages of illegible plot notes. She dreamed of signing her books one day (even practiced in her school notebooks) and the notoriety that came with the job of being a great writer (like being recognized wandering through a bookstore).
And then she decided to make a blog.
So here we are.
My name is Kylie and I’m a writer. I have a great and terrible fear of people reading my writing. Even this very blog. As you read this (is anyone actually reading this?) I am probably sitting in a corner somewhere, hugging my knees to my chest and biting the polish off my fingernails, worrying that I typed the wrong thing or someone out there is thinking: “This isn’t even a very good blog post. She should probably reconsider her greatest passion in life.”
And if they are…well, so what? They don’t have to read this blog post and they don’t have to read anything that may or may not be published by me. I love to write and this is my way of trying to overcome my irrational fear. This is also my way of documenting the harrowing yet lovely process of writing a novel (and hopefully many more after that).
And so it begins.