I have always been addicted to storytelling.
As a child I was happy just creating a story and a character in my head. Imagining for a moment what it would be like to be someone else. Someone older or younger or louder or prettier or meaner. Someone from a different time period or someone from a different world. Whatever it was, I would rather be lost in the world of the story than living in reality. I was constantly consuming new stories, new ideas, and new worlds.
When I was a pre-teen I discovered a new kind of storytelling. I found a whole slew of new worlds lived right inside of my TV. I was drawn in by the characters that these worlds presented. It didn’t matter to me that there was murder and gore in CSI. The graphic nature of House didn’t phase me. I focused instead on the characters, the relationships. I watched Booth and Bones squabble, Ducky of NCIS talk to corpses, and Margret scream at people on M*A*S*H (I like to think that even as a middle schooler I had good taste in television).
In high school it only got worse as I discovered The West Wing and following 30 Rock. I longed to create my own characters, but couldn’t figure out how to make them realistic. I took Creative Writing, and I had my first stab at NaNoWriMo (and failed miserably). I learned that anything could be interesting if I took the time to find the story that was in it.
Now I’m learning even more about how to create drama, and how to make characters seem real. I’m looking forward to a day when someone will be able to connect with what I’ve written and believe in what I’m saying. This year I’m thinking about trying NaNo again. I want to get into a habit of writing more often and between school and this blog I hope to be overflowing with ideas. Can’t wait.