Putting Pen to Paper – but why?

I never set out to become a writer. It kind of happened by accident. How? Well, it’s actually quite simple. Frustration!

Need more than that? Okay, let’s cut to the chase. I became a writer to ensure the quality of my own entertainment. Basically I got fed up with book, movie or TV show endings I didn’t like. And it’s not simply about things not turning out the way I, for one, would have wanted them to. It’s about writers completely ignoring or maybe rather forgetting about hooks they threw out into the water in the very beginning of the story and then at the end, there is still no fish in sight.

What really set me going was watching the scifi show Roswell that started to air shortly before the millennium. Gosh, I feel old! Okay, let’s move past personal issues! On that show four teenage alien/human hybrids were sent from their home planet Antar to Earth in order to be saved from annihilation. Their directive was to one day return home and reclaim the throne (oh yes, they were royalty!) for their people. Let’s just say, none of that ever happened and when the show ended with season three it wasn’t even with the intention of going home eventually. That whole storyline was just dropped into oblivion, never to return.

Okay, maybe I’m a bit picky, but that bothered me. So, over time I just thought, why not write the books I want to read myself? This way I can at least guarantee that storylines do not vanish into thin air.

So far, things are going well. I’ve actually made myself cry! Never really set out to do that, but I’ll take it. Maybe I’m not as emotionally handicapped as I thought I was. There is still hope.