Being a writer is oftentimes a thankless role. I spend hundreds of hours working on pieces that may never see the light of day. Still, I keep going because somewhere in the jumble of letters is a story I want to tell, even if it will only be read by a single friend.
I liked writing from a young age—more importantly, I loved stories. I spent hours diving into the vibrant worlds hidden between the pages of books. Whether it was simply recounting my day to my parents or spinning some fanciful daydream on the playground, telling stories has always been a part of me. The world in my head brings life to the dullest days, begging to be set free.
The first time I set out to write a book was in seventh grade. I didn’t make it past the prologue. The next year, I began to handwrite a book during the monotonous moments in the school day. Eventually a handful of pages grew to a binder-full. I finished the project in a year. I was so incredibly proud of those handwritten pages… until I had to transcribe them all myself.
Working on that first manuscript taught me a few things: the importance of consistency, familiarity with written English usage, worldbuilding, and how to type at a decent pace. Although I will not try to publish that manuscript, the lessons learned still influence my writing.
It was during the winter of my freshman year of college that I started my next project—the one I am still working on. Honestly, I find that boredom tends to fuel my best projects. I started it one weekend night. I didn’t know where I was going or even how far I would pursue the idea. I vowed to write at least 1000 words a week. Usually that ended up being on Friday. I prioritized that time and slowly it grew to 50,000 words.
AU Scriptorium, the writing club on campus, was established at the start of my sophomore year. Having a community cheering me on made me feel accepted and renewed my drive just as it had begun to peter out. During the extended Thanksgiving/Christmas break that school year, Scriptorium ran a NaNoRiMo, a writing event that traditionally takes place in April and November when writers vow to write 50,000 words in a month. Few things in life prepare you for such a task. 50,000 words in a month works out to just over 1,600 words a day (no breaks). By some miracle (mostly Covid limiting all other possible activities), I managed a terrible schedule of writing late into the night to reach the word count. I know how crazy I sound, but nothing beat the feeling of accomplishment I got at the end when I finished. My manuscript doubled in length, but I wasn’t done. I kept writing at the same pace and finished my manuscript draft a few weeks later with 117,000 words (427 pages).
I am long winded with my stories and I don’t like endings. This is no exception. The book I finished is only book one in a (hopefully) four book adventure series filled with mages, magic, and madness. I started drafting book two last summer.
Something I was never prepared for was pursuing writing professionally. I’m still not. I’m the odd pre-physical therapy major in an array of English classes to hone my passion (and fulfill my writing minor requirements). A few months ago, I began to send my writing to literary agents seeking publishing. It has been humbling receiving auto-generated rejection after rejection. It hurts having the work I slaved over get stomped on. As imposter syndrome kicks in, I’ve questioned so many times whether it was worth it to keep writing.
They say it’s in rejection that you grow the most. I’m not giving up. I’m taking it as a sign that my manuscript still needs work. Editing has been my nemesis since day one. I’m great at drafting, but I’m a pantser (I never have a plan when it comes to writing, the words drag me to the ending) and I don’t like looking my work over after it’s “done.” Humbled by the rejections, I’ve turned back to editing armed with new skills from my short story class this semester (thanks to Dr. Moncrieff and my amazing classmates). I shed tears as my word count shrinks. Inevitably, words get cut here and there. My once 117,000 word manuscript is now down to 114,000 words (417 pages). It hurts, but in the fire my work is being refined. The story is becoming clearer and even better.
Along this journey, I’ve had so much support from Scriptorium, family, friends, professors, the AUSM, and the young writing community. Getting the opportunity to write, in any capacity, builds experience and familiarity with the craft, and I have been incredibly blessed with these opportunities. I wouldn’t have come this far without their love and acceptance. Even if my manuscript never becomes a New York Times bestseller, I will be content with the journey. I will be grateful for the skills I’ve gathered along the way. I’ll thank my mentors and continue cheering on fellow writers on their own journeys. I will love how far I’ve come. The journey is not just about getting published—it’s about letting that creative spark free and watching it run wild.
I leave you with this advice to writers of every stage:
Just put one word in front of the other.
A sprinkle of drama never hurts.
Write a story you wish you could’ve read.
Keep reading. Keep writing.
You are valid, wherever you are in your writing journey.
Have fun with it.
If you are interested to hear more about my manuscripts and writing adventures, you can find my writing account on Instagram @_.k.j.mcfadden._books_.
The Student Movement is the official student newspaper of Andrews University. Opinions expressed in the Student Movement are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editors, Andrews University or the Seventh-day Adventist church.