I’ve been putting off writing this post for a while, but it’s one I knew I was going to have to write eventually. I’ve wanted to share with you the real reason why I decided to give writing a go and as a natural sharer, this should have been easy for me. But it wasn’t.
You see, I originally got back into writing after being redundant, which was fine. I wasn’t all heartbroken and stuff. I started doing a creative writing course with some of my redundancy pay and had a bit of success with some short stories being published. I found I was really enjoying it and before long the idea for The Little Theatre on the Seafront was beginning to take shape.
But what really made me decide to try my hardest to get a novel published was the death of my lovely cousin, Dan, at just twenty-five. He’d been battling cancer for 10 months when we lost him and it was honestly one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to deal with. We’d lost his mum, my auntie, five years before that to cancer, and it all felt so unfair.
During that time I realised that we really can’t waste a single second of our time on this planet. And by puttering along hoping to make it but not really putting myself out there, I was doing Dan, and his memory, a disservice. If he had any time back on this planet I’m sure he’d have been doing a million and one different things to make the most of it.
So I decided to write another novel and start sending out The Little Theatre to publishers. It got rejected a few times and each time I had a bit of a moment of self-pity then picked myself up and tried again. I started doing Twitter pitches for both novels and that was eventually how I got my book deal.
I wouldn’t have done any of it if it hadn’t been for Dan and my aunt. I’d like to think that they’re up in heaven, proud of what I’ve achieved. And hopefully, I can keep making them proud in the future.
Have you ever had a moment of inspiration or courage come from something bad? I’d love it if you shared your stories below.