If you were to ask me about how I decided to become that struggling author who submits work after work, knowing that he’ll never get anywhere, I wouldn’t know where to begin. It could be because of the deaths in my family that kick-started my fetish for writing emotionally powerful stories or spending a summer course with Dr. Jaime Poissant and seeing all of my classmates encounter shell shock when reading my gory short story about a psychotic mechanic.
You could choose either one, I’ll leave it to you. When I sit at my laptop trying to think of new and extremely irrelevant ways to make my characters concern the reader, a glass of whiskey always helps. Reinventing painful memories from my past seem to force my fingers to move and create. Unfortunately, sometimes it goes on for so long that I find myself having to backspace to get rid of “l;s;oidgn;oang” and other random strings of text that occur when your face gains weight from the warmth of alcohol. I think that may be my strongest connection with other writers, the love for something that evokes emotion and creative flow. I don’t really concern myself with being like a specific author but rather like all of them. Taking all of their skills and creating my own self is what I hope for.
Before you ask, no, I don’t have a favorite book. There is no chance in hell that a true lover of literature could name a favorite book, period. The occasional reader (usually the ones who prefer the movie versions) may say something like The Hunger Games or Twilight. I’m not taking any credibility away from these novels, but a true reader, loves them all for each quality they have.
If I were to give a tip to aspiring authors and even those making millions it would be, “Never give up, never surrender”. You shouldn’t have to ask why.