what i’m doing
I don’t know what I’ll be writing here, but it’s exciting and I am very glad you are here to read this!
In fifth grade, I promised myself I would write a book one day. I dove in headfirst, writing endlessly without any understanding of how to draft or edit or outline or plan.
There were stories about growing up in Canada, stories about some girl named Cassandra or something, who I’d chosen to develop into some over-dramatized version of myself. There were stories about the nobility of some fictional European country. This, after all, was when I was going through a particularly intense historical fiction phase where I devoured books about Cleopatra and Marie Antoinette. Honestly, most of it was probably nonsense, but hey, I loved it.
Over the years, that dream has stuck around, and I’ve continued to write, scribbling down dreams, events, emotions, everything.
I have a folder on my computer of Word docs with vaguely-titled names, like “empty” and “memories” and “stars.” In these files, I write stories, and reread and tweak old ones.
On the Notes app on my phone, I keep one massive document called “good words,” where I have a running list of all my current favorite words, like phantasmagoric and ephemeral and diaphanous. They just sound right.
During 6 hour road trips and 6 am morning walks, I jot down notes, random ideas, anything that comes to mind, either on an index card, in an empty notebook, or in my phone.
Maybe I’ll have a groundbreaking idea one day, with a plot and a world I can spend 1000 pages building and developing—write my own memoir, too—but for now, I’m keeping my stories and sporadic bursts of inspiration here.