What I enjoy most about writing is having the ability to express myself in a creative way.
Ever since I was a teenager, I have had the dream of publishing a novel. When I was 16 years old, I wrote a YA fantasy. Every weekend, I would go down to my basement and sit at the computer for hours. Writing. Escaping into a world I was creating word by word.
Back then in the 90s, there was no such thing as self publishing. It was traditional publishing or nothing. I remember printing out my book and mailing it away, together with my hopes and dreams, never to be heard from again. I was disappointed, but not turned off to the idea of writing.
Rereading my book as an adult, some 20 years later, I could understand why it was never published. It was terrible. I mean, truly awful. Back then I thought it was great. Oh, how with distance and time perspectives can change.
Since High School, I’ve started many books, all but one (Conceiving Hope) remaining unfinished on a USB stick. Whether it was college, law school, or work, I’ve never found the time or had the brain capacity to be very creative.
Although I am an American, I currently live in Austria with my boyfriend and two-year-old daughter. In Austria, parental leave is paid until the baby is 1 year old. During this year, I wrote Conceiving Hope while my daughter napped. I was still tired, I might even say more tired than when I was working full time, but my mind was clear of the clutter. It was stimulated by my daughter, not exhausted by reading 100 page contracts filled with legal jargon.
And so I wrote. And wrote. And wrote until I finally had a finished product.
I can’t wait to share Conceiving Hope soon.
Olive McMahon 