By 
This is an unedited blog post from the archives.
I want to write.
I’ve wanted to write books for as long as I can remember. Short stories have always been my forte. I daydream my life, and imaginary tales, in such great detail that they eventually manifest themselves into reality or stories that I write or live out myself.
I dreamed of traveling the world for so long that throughout my 3-year journey around the world I often felt déjà vu in places I’d never been before. When I left the states my idea was that I would write my life story once the journey ended, because like every 20-something I thought my life was so incredibly exciting that it was book worthy. The problem with writing your life story is that you never feel like its over, and therefore perpetually unready to be written.
When we stopped traveling, settling into a cute, though tiny, modern condo in Bangkok I fell into a slump. It’s difficult for me to describe it as depression, because I’m not qualified to diagnose myself, but it was dark. I couldn’t get out of bed for what seemed like a month. For three years my life revolved around planning the next trip, the next country, the next adventure. So when that was over I felt empty and kind of lost. I’ve shared these feelings on my blog before.
I knew it was time for me to move into the author phase of my life, but after mastering travel it was intimidating to start from scratch on a whole new dream. I couldn’t see how exactly I could make that dream a reality and that discouraged me beyond belief. It was such a dilemma that I was taking it out on everyone around me, especially Jarrell. I couldn’t empathize with his lack of direction or drive, despite experiencing the very same thing myself. I guess I expected him to have it all figured out because he’s a man? I often forgot that he too is human. We were miserable in our new paradise.
In an attempt to brighten my spirits and find some source of escape, I started reading fictional books, specifically erotic romance novels. I read the entire current catalogue of the genre, somewhere close to twenty-five books, in less than a month. I was obsessed.
One day I woke up from a dream, undoubtedly inspired by the books I’d been reading. It was so vivid that I decided to write it out in what would become the first chapter of my own erotic romance novel. My spirit was so lifted, I felt invigorated by this growing passion to daydream the next part of my story and continue to write. It was all I did for at least a week. It was fun. I had no idea where it would lead and refused to allow the accountant part of my brain to question how I’d make money from it. Instead, I just enjoyed the creative process.
Before I knew it I had twenty thousand words written, then fifty thousand. I was a machine. So I sent it to a couple of friends and they loved it. Of course I love my work, and of course Jarrell supports it, but to have my friends like it was an added boost to my confidence. So I decided to share the first four chapters with other writers, another step that was a bit scary, but I said ‘fuck it’ and hit send before I could think of everything that could go wrong.
Almost immediately I heard back from one of the three writers I shared my work with, with praise and a proposal. They wanted me to ghostwrite four erotic romance novels for them. I was flabbergasted. Really? Me?
I took the deal. And then my plan began to develop in my mind. My new dream, as an author, began to materialize in my daydreams and my dilemma of how to get to where I wanted started to diminish.
So I dreamscaped all over again. The way I had once plotted out my journey around the world, I began to plot just how I could actually bring this writing idea to fruition.
I’m going to share it here, because I truly believe in speaking (and writing) things into existence, and I invite you to come along on this journey with me.
I’m going to write a couple of series as a ghostwriter, probably about 12 books. I look at it as practice and a huge confidence builder. Next, I’ll release a series of my own, most likely under a pen name. After really developing my craft I’ll be able to branch out, maybe as a consultant, for scripts and television series. I just want to daydream and write or live those dreams out. And I’m going to make it happen.
My journey abroad has always been my ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ moment, and in true copycat fashion, and perfect timing, I’ve decided to also focus on the pray portion. In a couple of weeks I’ll go to a yoga and meditation retreat on the coast of Thailand for a month. It’ll be great alone time to mentally prepare myself for what’s surely to come on this next part of my journey.
I’m excited, nervous, anxious, curious, scared, and strangely prepared for it all to happen. I’ve had so much fun writing the first book as a ghost-writer and am blown away by how this dream that seemed so impossible just months ago has grown roots in my mind, as the details for my new reality are so clear that I know their manifestation is inevitable.
Ready for a new journey? Oh, and sorry about my absence, I hope you now understand how and why I needed to get my shit together. But don’t worry, the views from the yoga retreat look picturesque, so I’ll have some great photos and life lessons to share with you soon.
And in the vain of transparency and sharing, here are the first four chapters I wrote and shared with writers that eventually landed my first ghost writing contract. Warning: it is erotic. I hope you enjoy it.
Love ya. And remember to love yourself and your daydreams.
Amirah
