Hello. I'm new to the group and just wanted to give a quick(ish) introduction.
Beyond tinkering with writing as a kid, I really began in my early 20's while I was homeless on the wintery streets of Wisconsin. A very nice waitress at the 24-hour diner gave me a set of expensive markers for Christmas (they knew I liked writing and drawing). With those, I sketched out a character. I took all the poor decisions and bad luck of my life and poured them into him. Then I gave him the ability to turn off his emotions and "see" fate so that he'd always know what to do next.
From that, a story was born. I scribbled it into notebooks and on the backs of placemats. Years later, someone was kind enough to take that mess of notes and transcribe it all into a computer. I eventually finished the story and self-published. It was crap. That's not cute self-deprecation. It really was awful.
I pulled it from the market, shelved the idea of writing, and moved to Mexico to co-found an animal rescue organization.
After the glamour of living on the beach in a mansion full of puppies wore off, I realized that I wasn't being paid. I wasn't allowed to leave or have any friends... ah crap, my boss is a human trafficker. Fortunately, he also knew nothing about computers, so I managed to embezzle a few hundred dollars for a plane ticket back to the states.
There I was, pushing 40 and, once again, homeless in Wisconsin. Winter was approaching and I had nothing but a single change of clothes that were intended for a Baja summer.
After about a year, and with the help of some friends, I managed to get back on my feet. Once life's pieces settled back into place, I decided to take another crack at this writing thing. Come to find out, I was actually pretty good. WAY better than the old me.
So I rewrote my novel from scratch. It's finished now, and I'm determined to do things right this time. I'm currently hunting for an agent and have the goal in mind to be a published author by the time I turn 45.
Beyond tinkering with writing as a kid, I really began in my early 20's while I was homeless on the wintery streets of Wisconsin. A very nice waitress at the 24-hour diner gave me a set of expensive markers for Christmas (they knew I liked writing and drawing). With those, I sketched out a character. I took all the poor decisions and bad luck of my life and poured them into him. Then I gave him the ability to turn off his emotions and "see" fate so that he'd always know what to do next.
From that, a story was born. I scribbled it into notebooks and on the backs of placemats. Years later, someone was kind enough to take that mess of notes and transcribe it all into a computer. I eventually finished the story and self-published. It was crap. That's not cute self-deprecation. It really was awful.
I pulled it from the market, shelved the idea of writing, and moved to Mexico to co-found an animal rescue organization.
After the glamour of living on the beach in a mansion full of puppies wore off, I realized that I wasn't being paid. I wasn't allowed to leave or have any friends... ah crap, my boss is a human trafficker. Fortunately, he also knew nothing about computers, so I managed to embezzle a few hundred dollars for a plane ticket back to the states.
There I was, pushing 40 and, once again, homeless in Wisconsin. Winter was approaching and I had nothing but a single change of clothes that were intended for a Baja summer.
After about a year, and with the help of some friends, I managed to get back on my feet. Once life's pieces settled back into place, I decided to take another crack at this writing thing. Come to find out, I was actually pretty good. WAY better than the old me.
So I rewrote my novel from scratch. It's finished now, and I'm determined to do things right this time. I'm currently hunting for an agent and have the goal in mind to be a published author by the time I turn 45.
