I don't really remember the exact moment I got into books. It wasn't some big, dramatic "love at first page" kind of thing. It just kinda… happened. One day I was reading a story, and I guess something about it just clicked. The way the characters talked, the way the world felt real even though it wasn't, I don't know, I just wanted more of that. I still do.
Books have always been this escape for me. Like, if I'm bored, stressed, or even just done with everything going on, I can pick up a book and BOOM!
I'm gone.
I'm in some other place, following someone else's problems for a while. And sometimes, that's what you need, right?
But it didn't stop with just reading. At some point, I started thinking, "Wait, I could write this stuff too." I mean, I had all these ideas in my head anyway, so why not? And yeah, at first it was rough.
Like really rough. You can check my old book: Percy Jackson Fanfic / Evangeline Hill, damn... that was a mess. But I kept writing, even if I hated half of it. I'd go back and delete stuff, change things around, and slowly, it started to feel like something real.
Phantom War.
You know how annoying it is when you realize you've used the same word five times in one paragraph? Yeah. That's why I spend so much time looking for different ways to say stuff. Like, instead of always using "said," I'll swap in "mumbled," "snapped," "whispered," whatever fits the mood. It's kinda fun actually, even if it makes me go down crazy rabbit holes sometimes.
This book is literally just some random story I came up with overnight. It's something that's been in my head for a while, just slowly building up, scene by scene, character by character. There were moments when I'd just be sitting there, not even thinking about writing, and suddenly BAM, an idea for a scene would hit me. Like outta nowhere. I'd have to stop what I was doing just to jot it down before I forgot.
And the thing is, this book... it's kinda dark. Not in a depressing kinda way, but in that "things are happening behind the scenes and nobody knows" type of way. That's the whole vibe I was going for. Like, people are living their normal lives, but there's a war going on that they can't even see. A phantom war, literally. Haha. And the people who do know about it, their lives are a mess. Some of them are trying to survive. Some are playing games. Some are just… gone.
Writing that kind of story takes time. Like, I couldn't just rush it. There's so much I wanted to say, so much I wanted the characters to feel. Sid, Freya, Cathleen, they're not just names I threw on a page. They've got their own thing going on. Sid's not even the main guy, but he's got this kind of aura around him. Freya's strong but lowkey kinda too... how do I say this?
Intimidating. Like, you don't mess with her unless you really wanna risk it for the biscuit.
Cathleen? Oh. My. GOD. She's got that smug "I know more than you think" face, and yeah, I love writing her.
And then there's Timothy. Poor guy. He's not fighting with the rest of them. He's chained up, starved, stuck somewhere dark, and no one even knows if he's gonna make it out. That part was hard to write. Not just because of what's happening to him, but because I had to feel it to write it right. I had to imagine what it's like to be completely alone, helpless, and forgotten. That messes with your head a bit. I didn't post that part yet though, so uh... spoiler.
A little late for that, huh?
But I wanted the story to feel real. Even if it's fiction. Even if there's mystery and tension and twists, I wanted people to read it and go, "Whoa. That could actually happen if things were just a little bit different." That's what I love about storytelling. You take something fake and make it feel true.
You can't just slap down words and call it a day. It's about figuring out how to say something, not just what to say. That's what makes a story hit different. And yeah, it's frustrating sometimes. But when it finally comes together? When the scene feels right and the words click?
OMG I LOVE THAT FEELING AGH!
You know what's funny? The more I write, the more I realize just how much I don't know. Like, when I first started, I thought I had it all figured out. I was like, "Okay, this is how you write a story, this is how you make it cool." But nah, turns out I didn't have a clue.
Characters?
They're not just there to say stuff and move the plot forward. They're their own people, even if they're not real. They've got their own thoughts, their own problems, their own messes. And sometimes, that mess spills out in ways you didn't expect. They start doing things you didn't plan for. They start saying things you didn't know they'd say. And you've gotta roll with it. If you try to force them into this perfect mold, the story's gonna feel fake. And that's the last thing I want.
Take Sid, for example. I had no idea what to do with him at first. He was just supposed to be this random sidekick character, you know?
Like, he was supposed to pop in, maybe say a few lines, and then disappear. But as soon as I started writing him, I realized he wasn't that simple. He's this quiet guy, but there's so much more beneath the surface. It's like he's got this story of his own that I'm not even fully tapping into yet. I can't just throw him away, because he's becoming part of this bigger thing. He's becoming someone the reader needs to pay attention to, even if he's not front and center.
That's the thing, though. You've gotta let the characters breathe. You can't just control them like puppets, telling them exactly what to do. You've gotta trust them a little. Trust that they'll do what they need to, even if it doesn't match what you planned. And that's the scary part. Because when it works? It works. And when it doesn't? Well, you've gotta figure out how to fix it, which can sometimes feel like trying to put together a broken puzzle with pieces missing.
Freya's like that too. I swear, every singletime I think I've got her figured out, she throws me a curveball. I try to make her tough, but not cold. Strong, but not a total tough-guy. You know, I want her to be that person you look at and think, "Yeah, she's the one who can get things done." But then, every now and then, I'll get a line from her, or she'll do something that shows there's more to her than I thought. She's a lot more layered than I ever expected. She's got this whole backstory I haven't even started to explore yet. And sometimes, that backstory just pops up in the middle of a scene.
And then there's Cathleen. I won't lie, she's probably the most fun to write. I mean, who wouldn't love writing a character who thinks they know everything? Cathleen's got this smugness about her that's so much fun to play with. She knows more than everyone else, and she knows it. She's the kind of person who can walk into a room and make everyone uncomfortable without saying a word. But that's her power. She doesn't need to fight or get her hands dirty. She just manipulates, makes people doubt themselves. And that makes her dangerous in her own way.
But man, Timothy? He messes with me. He really does. It's hard not to feel for the guy. I mean, he's trapped, alone, and no one even knows if he'll make it out alive. He's stuck in this horrible place, and I'm sitting here writing about him like it's no big deal. But it is. It is a big deal. Because there's no coming back from that kind of isolation. The mental toll it takes. The way it makes you question everything. My sister is basically crying for this dude, bro.
Writing those scenes where Timothy's just stuck, starving, chained up, it's not easy. I don't want to just brush past it, you know? I want the reader to feel what he's feeling, to understand that kind of hopelessness. But I also don't want to make it too much. I don't want to cross the line where it becomes overbearing. There's a balance, and I'm still figuring that out.
But it's part of the story. Everything's connected. The big things, the small things, the moments that feel like nothing and the moments that change everything. The Phantom War isn't just about explosions and fights. It's about what's happening underneath it all. The stuff people don't see. The battles that are fought in silence, in the dark. And that's what makes it so hard to write.
Omg... I'm like, yapping right now. It's alright, though... right?
Ya'll are here to read, right???
Anyways....
There are days when I feel like I'm barely holding it all together. Like I've got this huge jigsaw puzzle, and some of the pieces don't even fit anymore. But then I get this moment where everything clicks, and it's like, THERE IT IS. That's the feeling I'm chasing. The moment when it all makes sense, when the story feels like it's alive and breathing on its own.
And yeah, sometimes it takes time. Like, a lot of time. I've been working on Phantom War for what feels like forever, and I'm still not even close to being done. But that's okay. It's part of the process. You can't rush something like this. You have to let it grow, let it evolve. Because if you try to force it, it's just gonna fall apart. And trust me, I've tried. You can't rush writing a story that's supposed to feel like it's been building up forever. You've gotta let it breathe.
But even when it's hard, even when it feels like I'm not getting anywhere, there's still this excitement in the back of my head. The excitement of knowing that at some point, all these pieces will fall into place. And when they do? That's when I'll know I've done something right.
So yeah, writing is a mess. It's not all sunshine and rainbows. There are days when I'm just sitting there, staring at the screen, wondering why I even started.
But then there are those days where everything comes together, and it feels like the world's opening up. That's when it's worth it. That's when I remember why I love it.
And that's why I keep writing. Even when it's tough. Even when I'm stuck. Because I know that at some point..... I'll get there. And when I do, it's gonna feel like the. Best. Thing. Ever.
Man, I don't even know how many stories I've got floating around in my head anymore. Like, I'll be brushing my teeth or about to fall asleep and, boom, there's a whole plot sitting in my brain like, "Hey, what if a girl finds out her dad is secretly part of an underground lab?" or "What if two best friends end up on opposite sides of a war they didn't even know was happening?" And I'm just lying there, staring at the ceiling, thinking, "Not again, bro, I've already got five books I haven't finished."
It's actually kinda funny and kinda stressful. Like, I'll be mid-writing Phantom War or Behind Closed Doors or something else I've already started, and then this totally new idea crashes through the wall like a cartoon character. And it's not even a bad idea. It's a cool one. Sometimes even cooler than the one I was working on. So now I'm sitting there debating with myself like, "Do I keep writing the one I've been working on for months, or do I switch gears and chase the new one while it's still fresh?"
That's the thing. I want to finish what I've started, but at the same time, I don't wanna ignore these ideas either. They come outta nowhere, but they come with energy, y'know? Like little sparks. And when something sparks like that, I need to get it down. I'll open a new doc, type maybe two paragraphs, give it a title, and then leave it there like it's in a waiting room. And now there's this whole chaotic pile of half-baked stories just chilling in my docs folder, all with names like A Voice in the City or Sammy's Tales or Code Red.
Like, I swear, I've got a book idea that came to me while I was literally washing my hands. Just standing there, looking at the water, and suddenly my brain goes, "Hey… what if the mirrors in public bathrooms showed a version of you that doesn't quite match, and you're the only one who notices?" And I'm like, dude. I dried my hands and ran out like I'd just seen a ghost. Then I opened a new doc, typed out the whole concept, and wham, another story on the shelf.
Sometimes I feel like I've started more stories than I'll ever finish. I've got like… let me think… okay, Behind Closed Doors: Game Master, Phantom War: Rising Storm, Rumors of the Dead, Sammy's Tales, The Mirror Thing, A Voice in the City, The House at the Hill (that one's about this kid who realizes his neighbors aren't aging anymore), and then I've got a few without even proper titles. Just stuff like "that one with the dream messages" or "the forest eats memories." And I know some of those are just one or two pages long, but they exist, you know?
And every single one of them means something to me. Even the dumb ones. Like the one where a kid wakes up and everyone in his town is frozen in place, and he's gotta figure out if he's dreaming or if time really stopped. That idea came to me while I was waiting for the microwave to finish. I was just staring at the numbers counting down and thought, "What if time never moved again?" And now, boom. Another story exists. It's like these ideas are constantly knocking on my brain, trying to get in.
The problem is, I don't want to give up on any of them. They're like little versions of me, different versions of how I see the world or what I'm scared of or curious about. And each one wants its chance. Each one's like, "Hey! Pick me! Choose me! LOVE ME!" But I only have so much time and brainpower. And sometimes I'll sit there, just scrolling through my own unfinished stuff, wondering which one to go back to. Which one's calling out the loudest. Which one's ready.
And you know what sucks? People will be like, "Why don't you just focus on one story and finish it?" And I get it, I do, but also, no. That's not how it works for me. If I don't follow the ideas when they come, they leave. They get quiet, and I forget why I loved them in the first place. So yeah, maybe I don't finish everything right away, but I'm listening. I'm paying attention. I'm catching those moments when they show up, even if it's midnight and I'm half asleep or on the toilet just trying to exist.
And it's not even just full plots either. Sometimes it's just scenes. Like this one where two characters are sitting on a rooftop, watching a city burn, and one of them turns to the other and says, "We did all this… just to feel heard?" And that line hit me so hard, I wrote the whole scene with no idea what came before or after. Just that one rooftop moment. It doesn't even belong to a specific story yet. But I know it will one day.
Or I'll imagine this kid in a hallway, surrounded by shadows that whisper stuff only he can hear. Or a girl who finds a phone that rings at exactly 3:03 a.m. every night, and each time, it's a different voice. That stuff just hits me, and I gotta write it somewhere or I'll go crazy trying to remember it later. I keep this notes app folder called "Story Dump," and it's just absolute chaos. Some entries are full paragraphs. Others are like "ticking sound is heartbeat of the world?" or "invisible bridge made of lies???" I don't even know what half of it means anymore, but they felt important at the time.
Do I watch too many YouTube shorts or something???
And look, I'm not out here trying to write just one book and be done. I want a whole shelf. I want people to look at a lineup of my stories and be like, "Oh yeah, that's the one where the memories fight back" or "That's the series with the shadow twin." Like, I wanna write stuff that sticks. Different genres, different vibes. Some scary, some sad, some weird, some kinda heartwarming in a quiet, twisted way.
I think the wildest part is, I'm not even worried if some stories stay unfinished for a long time. Sometimes they just need to sit. Like soup that's gotta simmer or whatever. I've gone back to old docs from months ago and realized, "Wait, this is actually kinda good." Or I'll find something I wrote and not even remember writing it, but it feels familiar in this strange, comforting way. Like I left myself a message from the past, and now I'm finally ready to hear it.
And sometimes, I combine ideas. Like, what if the girl from A Voice in the City also lives in the world of The House at the Hill? What if the lab from Phantom War has ties to the weird dreams in Behind Closed Doors? When I start connecting them, it feels like I'm not writing separate stories, but building this huge, interconnected universe that only I understand (for now). It's like a secret web, and every new idea is just another string pulling it all together.
Didn't you notice how most of my books contain the same names??
WHAT IF THIS IS ALL JUST SOME MULTIVERSE I ACCIDENTLY CREATED IN MY HEAD WHEN I WAS PEEING IN THE TOILET???
Honestly, I think that's what keeps me going. The fact that I don't have it all figured out. That I've got all these little half-born worlds waiting for me. It's exciting. Yeah, sure, sometimes it's overwhelming. But most of the time? It's fun. It's this cool chaos that keeps me on my toes. Every day, something new could pop into my head. Every night, some weird dream could turn into a story I'll be working on for years.
So yeah, maybe I'm not some professional author with a neat little publishing schedule and a fancy writing desk. Maybe I'm just a kid with way too many tabs open in my brain. But I wouldn't trade it for anything. I'd rather have a million unfinished stories than none at all. Because each one means I'm still imagining. Still trying. Still creating.
And hey, one day, maybe I'll finish all of them. Maybe I'll look back at the wild mess of files and folders and feel proud of how far they came. Maybe I'll even laugh at the ones that made no sense but still taught me something. Who knows? But for now, I'll keep collecting the ideas. Keep writing when they hit. Even if it's in the middle of the night. Even if it's while brushing my teeth. Even if it's, yeah, right after taking a piss.
Because that's how my brain works. This... is how I write.
Oh wow. Can I yap???
Okay okay okay, so like, life is weird, right? Like, why do socks disappear in the laundry? Where do they go?? Is there like a sock kingdom somewhere made of fluff and regret?? Because I swear I put in two, and I get one back like it's a trade deal gone wrong.
Anyway. Life. Sometimes it feels like you're just... spawning into each day with zero plan. Like, you wake up and the game's already running and you're like "wait hold on I haven't even loaded in yet," but everything's already happening and you just have to go. I didn't even get my morning cookie yet, what is this chaos.
Also, why does time move like a glitchy speedrun? One second you're vibing in January, and then BAM it's like... April?? I didn't approve this. Who pressed skip?
And can we talk about how people expect you to have your life together? Like bruh I still mentally classify people as "kid" or "taller kid," I can't even remember where I put my charger five minutes ago. You think I know what I wanna do five years from now? I'm just trying to figure out if I'm hungry or bored half the time.
OH and don't even get me started on social interactions. Like, why does my brain decide now is the time to rehearse a fake argument with someone from a dream I don't even remember?? I'll be brushing my teeth like "no actually YOU'RE wrong, Deborah" and I don't even know a Deborah??
Sometimes I just lie in bed like "hmm yes this is the perfect time to rethink every cringey thing I've ever said since the age of six." Thank you, brain. Very helpful.
Also also, I fully believe water tastes different depending on the cup. Don't fight me on this. A glass glass? Elite. Plastic bottle? Meh. Metal bottle? Why does it taste like danger?? Science probably has an answer but I don't wanna hear it. I'm sticking to my conspiracy.
Anyway, life is confusing and loud and full of weird rules no one explains, but sometimes it's also kinda nice. Like when your favorite song plays at the exact right moment or when a random breeze hits and you feel like the main character in a movie no one's watching. Or when someone laughs at your dumbest joke and it just clicks.
Oh my goodness gracious, I probably yapped so damn hard right now. I am so sorry you had to read all that...
It's been a while since I wrote this much and yapped THIS hard. Like, normally I'M the one listening, I've forgotten how good it feels to BE HEARD....!!
Most of you probably skipped the long paragraphs anyway...
AHM, anywaysss.... TOODLES! (for now)