I’ve always been a little envious of my fiction-writing friends. They can twist and turn their stories in any direction their imaginations take them. If the plot seems boring, they can change it. If a character is annoying, they can kill them. Meanwhile, I was restricted to my factual nonfiction box, only allowed to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. 

Don’t get me wrong. I love real-life inspirational stories. But every now and then, I’ve wondered what it would be like to create my own cast of characters, throw them into a story, and make them come to life.

I always enjoyed brainstorming with my novel-writing friends. Inevitably, I’d shake my head and say, “I wish I could write fiction.”

Then their faces would light up. “You can!” They’d grin, obviously hoping I’d join them on the other side.

But I knew I couldn’t.

I had zero story ideas. And if, by chance, I ever did think of something book worthy, I wouldn’t know how to begin … or end … or what to say in the middle. It was fine. I would stick with nonfiction. 

Then one morning I woke up with a small spark of an idea. Hmm … that’s interesting. I moved on with my day. Then came another idea. And another.

When I returned to my writers’ group, I worked up the courage to share my ideas. Nobody laughed, so I kept talking. After I had monopolized most of our meeting time, they encouraged me to go for it. I returned home excited—and overwhelmed. I had a steep learning curve ahead, but at least I was starting the climb.

I’m happy to report that I just finished writing my first book. However, publishing that book is another steep curve.

Stay tuned. I’ll keep you posted!