A Note From My Diary: My Book, My Fears.

The most daunting thing for me is the blank word document.

It stares at me every morning, taunting me, teasing me, mocking me. It plays into my deepest fears that I'm not a good enough writer. That no one really cares about what I say. And that no one will read my book.
And then I start.
I type away furiously. I bring life into characters, a plot that comes from an organic growth and scenes that jump out from my brain. I dig deeper into my experiences, my life, stories and anecdotes. I write and I write, defying the blank word document till I'm exhausted.
And then I go out and meet people, share a part of me, listen, grow and learn.
And i come back and write some more. I understand that characters can be in  new situations, more scenes, and they can also act in strange ways. I think about what she is going through, how he is feeling and what they said.
All of it is me. Each and every character is a part of me.
And I think about them for days, weeks and months, sometimes waking in the middle of the night because "she" needs to say something to her hero. It needs to be written then. It can't wait till the morning.
Some days I stare blankly at the word doument and curse it. It has won for the day. I have not written.
And then I know it takes a little time.
And I start again. I try. I hope. I pray. I write.
And one day it lies in my hands. My book.
And I can only cry. Tears of joy, frustration, happiness, anxiety, nervousness and amazement.
I did it. I didn't succumb to my fear. And it's here. My book. MY book!
And I can only pray now that people will like it, will relate to it, will identify with it, will take something from it.
Because I've given a year of my life to make it happen. Every day putting a part of me onto every page. And I hope it gives them as much happiness as it gave me to write it.