Wednesday, August 3, 2016

Today is IWSG day. Come join Alex J. Cavanaugh and all the other writers who support each other, make us all smile and think in this monthly hop. No one is mocked or sneered at. All are welcome. We have all been there.


 
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Visit the website and look around: http://www.insecurewriterssupportgroup.com/

This month's question is:

What was your very first piece of writing as an aspiring writer? Where is it now? Collecting dust or has it been published? 

My very first piece of writing as an aspiring writer was a fantasy trilogy that I titled The Snowhawk.  I started it in grad school with an idea about a group of Healers, headquartered in The Temple of Healing in a world I created.  I also created the names.  I had a story line with them, specifically one of them.  All planned out.  And then a fellow stepped in and ran away with the plot.  And then the villain stepped in and really ran away with the plot.  I wrote, rewrote, fiddled – all this before I had a computer.   I researched agents and sent out queries and was amazingly arrogant when I received rejections. 


A woman for whom I babysat learned that I was a ‘writer’ and put me in touch with her cousin, who was an editor for one of the NY publishers.  She read my manuscript and told me it was too long.  She did not say it was bad.  But I had other interests in writing, and The Snowhawk in its final three volume typewritten and saved nowhere form was shelved.  I had better stories in the works. 

Interestingly, I still have that manuscript.  I can’t use it now.  I’d have to retype it, for one thing, since it was a few decades ago and I only became computerized in 1986.  Remember the big floppies?  And that universe had spiraled away from my original concept.  I was writing the stories of The Memphis Cycle and The Orphan’s Tale, and others.  It was passé. 

But The Snowhawk wasn’t finished with me.  I hit a huge dry spell due to a combination of things – crooked agent, job issues, family health, The Recession…  I stumbled across The Snowhawk, which I had completely forgotten, in a box on the top of some shelving in my garage.  I took the box inside, opened volume 2 of the manuscript and began to read.  I frowned at the passage, thought I could fix it – and the Monsoon hit, blasting through the inertia and dryness. 



And suddenly I was writing again.  I turned to my real Works In Progress and got cracking. 
You can read about it in this post.

I will never get rid of that manuscript.  It is the reason that I am still writing and publishing.  It may never be published, but it helped to save me.



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