Writing as I once painted.
I keep wondering about the reason why I’ve taken up writing, and the basic truth of it is that I have always been a storyteller. The difference is that for many decades, my stories were described in oils. Yes, I used to be a paintress, so drawing and painting were the mediums that I shared those stories. Then, I hurt my drawing hand on a couple of occasions, making it painful to hold a brush in hand for more than a few minutes. I could have felt a deep loss, fallen into depression because I truly loved painting but instead I felt this desire to explore other mediums in order to continue my creative process.
At first, I tried out singing and guitar playing. But again, my more practiced hand could not keep up due to pain. My voice, though not the worst, wasn’t what I was looking for, it was too public and I’m more of a recluse, preferring to be at the back of the scene, not on it.
So, I pulled out an appreciable volume of notes and thoughts I had written over the years, memories from past experiences. This put me on the path of writing my memoirs, I was overjoyed. My memoirs were eventually picked up by a brick-and-mortar publisher. This gave me the push I needed to explore another writing genre, that of the thriller.
I have these stories in my mind, stories I want to share with others. These stories come from my particular gaze as a woman of trans origin. I want to write about queer people using the thriller genre. I’m not the first to come to this, many other LGBTQ+ authors have written in this genre, I just think it’s wonderful. I am discovering that my stories are similar in flavour to my paintings in that I create what attracts me, pulls me to it. I create what I know and love, and also about the topics I wish to explore or speak up on.
I remember how when I would draw and paint, how I was constantly amazed that I had yet another painting in my mind, that I could share with the public. And when I completed a painting, I would have these questions; do I have another piece to create? What else is there in my imagination that I feel a need to share? There was always another piece, and it lasted for a few decades until my hand got hurt. Creativity, I discovered, wasn’t about which medium I used, but resided in permanence In my mind. It’s who I am. I have a never-ending list of characters, ideas, plots … so many stories I wish to write and share.
At present, I’m working on my first thriller, it’s very much an LGBTQ+ positive story with a private detective who is a woman of trans origin. It may even become a series, who knows. The ideas are all in my head, and as I keep learning, absorbing information and doing research, I find myself happily riding the winds of my creativity once again.
I hope I can soon enough, deliver my first novel, maybe in a few months but no promises as far as timing.