My story, as it were, didn’t begin with writing. I started my storytelling career at four years old when I would dress up and make my siblings and cousins act out stories with me. Some pictures still make me blush to this day.
I’ve always been a voracious reader, hearkening back to those wonderful childhood days, where instead of playing outdoors with other kids my age, I would pull out a book and keep to myself. It’s a wonder it took me so long to learn to socialize. I lost myself in science-fiction, fantasy, mystery, and thrillers fueling my imagination and inspiring many hours playing pretend in my backyard, building LEGOs, or improving my art until I could start showing people the scenes in my head.
Before I went to graduate school, I had only dipped my toe in the writing waters, mostly beginning the first chapter of half a dozen books that went nowhere. It wasn’t until I graduated college that I started listening to podcasts and lectures online about writing that I finally caught the itch. I would become a writer, just like all the authors whom I’d looked up to. I started writing seriously.
The story could have ended there, with me trying out writing and it fails, just like my previous attempts. I was graced with two things I didn’t have in the past: patience and an audience.
At twenty-two, I could sit through the boring parts, keep writing when it got tedious, and think up new ideas where my teenage self would run out of steam. Now, instead of three amazing scenes, I had the scenes that linked them together! It was a quite literal character growth.
Next was the audience, and you’ll forgive me if I tear up a little. I was dating a girl I met in grad school, whom I’d bonded with over our mutual love for Sanderson, Pratchett, and Hobb. She was my first editor, the one who provided much-needed feedback on my earliest works and encouraged me to grow. When I told her I was serious about writing a novel, she was behind me all the way. Together, after spending over a year writing, revising, and writing some more, I was almost done with my novel.
This was when she and I broke up. It was a mixture of circumstances and heartbreaking choices. I loved her and I still love her. She was the one who taught me I could have multiple loves and not give up. She didn’t get to be with me when I finished the novel, nor when I submitted it to a literary agent. Ultimately, that was good, because every agent rejected my novel. It wasn’t ready yet.
It took another year and a pandemic before I finished my first novel, Unraveling Magic. Within it is the magic of my heart, the magic of my first love, and my hopes and dreams for the future. It gave me a place to put my feelings of anxiety, my concerns about my relationship, and my growing feelings towards my family. Within the story are characters who are diverse, funny, and maybe a little too snarky at times. Those pages are my pride and joy, and even if no one else reads them, I’ve accomplished a lifelong dream.
I have many people to thank for getting me to this point. I hope that when you read my work, you can see the love, passion, and effort that went into creating the best work it could possibly be. I’d also like to thank Writers Lift for giving me the opportunity to write this blog. I feel like it wrote itself, and I was just an outlet for these words.
Links:
Book Page- tinyurl.com/dctwea45
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ghkohnofficial
Instagram-https://www.instagram.com/ghkohnoffical/