Naleighna Kai's Literary Cafe Magazine November Edition | Page 23

W
riting as a child gave me the ability to get lost in
the process of making up strange stories, visiting
new worlds, meeting new people, all of which came to
life when I put them on paper. My friends and teachers
knew that I wanted to become a writer even before I
graduated from grammar school.
During the teenage years, writing made me feel
empowered in the sense that I was free to express myself,
uninterrupted and unscripted, especially in times of
anger or being in love. I was able to pour out every
emotion with the stroke of a pen, and felt refreshed and
heard, even though I was the only person listening to
my most inner thoughts. Well, me and, The Man Above.
Somewhere along the line, that drive to become a
professional writer diminished. Life got in the way—
college, work, relationships, more work, and a baby. I
still wanted it, but writing was no longer a priority.
Fast-forward fifteen years when I stumbled upon that
spark once again while reading Cheaters, a novel by
Eric Jerome Dickey. The way he crafted the story was
intriguing and had me hooked from the first page. The
further I went into the book, the more I visualized the
characters in my mind. Not the characters from his
story, but my own group of four people for a story that
did not exist. One that I was creating with each page of
his book that I turned.
By the time I finished Cheaters, the overwhelming
feeling to write took over. My characters were banging
the inside of my skull, begging to be released. I ran to
the computer and began pecking away for thirteen hours
nonstop. I hadn’t written like that ever, and the feeling
was nothing short of exhilarating. The characters had so
much to say, and I couldn’t hit the keys fast enough for
all the words to escape my thoughts and make it through
the keyboard and onto the screen.
At this juncture, the writing was as fun as it had been
when I was eight years old. I wrote as the story came to
me, connected with the characters, all the while enjoying
the twists and turns as the plot unfolded. I connected with
the characters, and everything was peaches and cream and
a whole lot of other things that make a writer feel good.
Halfway to the finish point, it dawned on me that I didn’t
know what to do next. How was I going to get this thing
published? I googled and searched, and everything I saw
looked like gibberish. Now, what do I do?
The Man Above dropped a literary angel into my life. And
I had no idea that she would be my warrior to all things
literary, but specifically developmental editing and giving
me the tools to publish my first novel.
My youngest daughter and I were grocery shopping at
Walmart when we ran into this woman and her son J.L.
discussing whether it was important to have milk with
French toast and syrup. I agreed that the two definitely
go together. She asked me, “Do you read?” I was insulted
(not really). That was like asking a fish if it needed water to
survive. I love to read and proudly showed her my Kindle
library. Then she showed me hers, which was much larger
than mine. I mentioned I was writing a book. What made
me do that? I don’t know. Maybe it was fate.
Naleighna Kai invited me to a Writers Workshop that she
taught at Calumet City Public Library. I made sure I was
sitting in the seat of that class the following evening.
The workshop was only the beginning. I didn’t know that a
story had to be a certain amount of words to be considered
a novel. I didn’t know the true meaning of having an editor
or that there were different types of editors. I thought the
spelling and grammar check in Microsoft Word would
suffice. (Don’t y’all laugh at me. I mean it, stop laughing.)
I completed the manuscript four months later and hand-
delivered it to my new developmental editor. I was elated,
and she was happy for and with me. Then a couple of
weeks passed, and the editor calls to inform me that the
NKLC Magazine | 23