A Castle Isn’t Built in One Day

I’ve been told writing isn’t a race, it’s a marathon. But I believe the previous statement needs correction. Writing is a journey. Crafting a book is filled with emotional highs and lows.

Although I began writing LOTK in 2007, I wasn’t diligent until 2010. There were numerous obstacles to overcome. Skills I fought to acquire. Revelations I struggled to understand.

A writer spends their time in solitude. It can be lonely, and sacrifice is required to complete the project. Your characters become your friends. You feel their joy and pain while remaining rooted in a world of fantasy others have yet to traverse.

Writing is a strange but beautiful experience. For me, it’s like staring with awe into the vast wilderness. I’m captivated by the trees, rivers and mountains, but I can’t see beyond the horizon.

I rest below the mighty oaks and peaceful streams, until I’m forced to journey beyond the fridged peaks of the mountains to find the next scene. I’m a discovery author, and although I have an idea of the plot, the outcomes can easily change.

There were numerous times when I decided the mountains were impassable, and I quit writing LOTK. I was mad and exhausted. There were questions that couldn’t be answered.

Sure, my depression was gone, but why was I still struggling with anxiety. Why was I writing this book? Was this something I had to do? The sacrifice was too much.

 I lacked persistence and determination, until I learned a valuable lesson that could only be obtained in the past. This lesson involved…time travel.

Yes, I’ll say it again, time travel. I took a trip deep into the past, beyond human memory. No, I don’t own a Delorian or a phone booth. I have something much better… a hot tub.

“The beautiful things are difficult.”

Paul A. Candelaria