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The Internal World Of An #Author

I can’t speak for all writers, but this is what it’s like for me as an author.

I have a loud mind. Stephen King once said quiet people have loud minds. I don’t know. I mean, I’m quiet when I have nothing to say, and I don’t ever have the need to hijack people’s conversations . . . well, unless they say something that pisses me off. But yeah, I have a loud mind.

My thoughts constantly scatter.

I can have a conversation with my husband and think of other things at the same time. Where I get into trouble is when he’s telling me something I’m not in the least bit interested in, I’ll focus on my other thoughts, and not hear a word he’s saying.

My mind always turns an unexplained noise or situation into a story, and nine times out of ten I’ll tell the person with me about it. And yes, that person looks at me like I grew another head—unless it’s another author I’m telling.

I’ll compare a situation someone is in or was in or something that happened that’s relevant to one of my characters, and I’ll talk about it.

Sometimes I become anxious and irritable when I have so many things to do like edits, rewrites, posting, market, etc. and not enough time to do them. Basically, I get overwhelmed, and my thoughts won’t stop whirling.

I have stories racing through my mind.

I’m never bored.

Sometimes I get so overwhelmed with everything I have to do—bookwise—that I don’t know where to start, and I want to pull my hair out.

If I’m not working on a story, I get grumpy and depressed.

I get nervous and scared when other people reads my story.

My character’s talk to me, and they can get demanding to where I have to appease them. I am their slave.

I get excited and giddy when I’m creating a story.

I laugh when one of my characters does something funny. I also cry when something bad happens to them.

So do I like being an author?


I frickin’ love it.


Because despite the anguish as an author I go through to churn out a novel and market it, I created something out of nothing. I have the ability to transfer what’s inside of me, onto paper, and into other people’s minds. I can share with them worlds and characters they never knew about. I can teach them lessons or at least get them to think on topics they never thought about. I can make them laugh, cry, smile, and get frustrated. I can entertain them. I’m giving something to this world that more than likely will last well after I’m gone, which rocks.

I love being an author.

Enough said.

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