seven years

Lately I’ve been thinking about my history as a writer. Past novels, past writing groups, past critique partners. What kicked me off was a comment on last week’s teaser from my old friend John Zeleznik, better known to me as Ebenstone.

"Your writing has gotten so good. This was beautiful and so well written. I'm blown away!"

I’ve been lucky enough to stay in touch with many of my old writing friends. I’m still swapping chapters with Dystophil the way we did three years ago. But Ebenstone is hands down the oldest writing friend I’m still in touch with. How old? I joined our then writing group in late 2002, when I’d just turned fourteen. So -- seven years and counting.

In those seven years, I wrote:

• Some embarrassingly terrible stuff ripped off from Tamora Pierce.
• Some embarrassingly terrible stuff ripped off from Robert Jordan.
• Some embarrassingly terrible stuff ripped off from George RR Martin.
• Three hundred pages of world-building for a projected multiple-book series I had to tear up.
• Fanfiction in several fandoms.
• My first novel, an epic fantasy I have since thankfully lost.
• My second novel, a monster novel I have unfortunately not lost, because it is saved on my writing LJ.
• My third novel, an urban fantasy I often wished I’d lost.
• My fourth novel, an epic fantasy I love too much to lose.

Objectively I think, and Dystophil often tells me, that my writing has improved a metric truckload since the early days. But only Ebenstone knows the truth.

So I’m glad to hear that I’ve learned something in those seven years. :)