I have been writing stories for as long as I can remember. Actually, it’s more like before I can remember. A favorite family anecdote is about me telling a story while I was still a toddler; after a flashlight went missing — without my help, I should mention — I proceeded to explain how a frog managed to get into the house and take the missing flashlight under the refrigerator. After great lengths on my parents’ part, the flashlight was not found under the heavy appliance. I have been writing ever since.
I haven’t known until the last several years that I wanted to write as a career though. Over the years, I have written lots of things. I’ve even won a couple of awards, my favorite of which happens to be in a state magazine for a poem I wrote at the age 13. In that poem I questioned life itself and the laws of existence such as the colors of nature. However, under all the words laid my emotions of grief and anger over the death of my birth mother.
As I have grown, so have my writing abilities. But the essence of my writing hasn’t changed. I still use my feelings as the foundation of everything I write. I feel intensely, live passionately, and speak vibrantly. Somehow I manage to naturally convey emotions to my readers.
Ah, my readers. Let’s take a moment to see where I discovered my dream. I had stopped writing many years ago. Adulthood came upon me, along with all the responsibilities of getting married and raising children, and I just didn’t have time to waste of such flights of fancy. Writing amusing stories was something of my childhood, fated to leave me just as long summer breaks and imaginative play did. Or so I thought. I eventually needed some sort of creative outlet, but I can’t draw or play an instrument (although I tried to play the violin for five years in middle and high school) or sculpt intricate statues. My gift is that of articulation. So I wrote. I wrote fictional stories about my favorite band.
Yes, I am a writer of fan fiction, and I am rather proud of that fact. For you see, the more I wrote, the more I found my true calling. I couldn’t stop. With every story I pushed the boundaries just a little further than the previous one. I tested my skills and flexed my mental muscles. One day, I was struck with an epiphany: I am made to write. Every person has some quality that offers them a chance at greatness, and mine is the ability to tell a great story.
I am honored to have a group of people that call themselves fans of mine, and I am truly humbled at some of the wonderful compliments they pay me. These are the people that without whom I’d have never found my passion. These are the people that have watched me grow through my stories, the people that have encouraged me to keep going. These are the people that are following me through the transition into commercial fiction. But most importantly, these are the people I will always remember. I have the privilege of calling several of them personal friends now.
I have decided to start this blog for several reasons. It will be a way for my “fans” (for I still consider myself unworthy of fans yet) to keep up with how the progress of my debut novel is coming along. It will be a place for me to talk about the triumphs and failures, and all that goes along with them, of the writing and publishing process. And hopefully, this will be a way of finding new readers and stirring up some excitement and anticipation for the coming of my first book, “Sing for Me, Pretty.”
I hope you’ll tag along. This is definitely going to be quite the adventure!
T. R. Hudgins
T. R. Hudgins 