Rewriting to Write
I stared at the blank Word document. The cursor blinked at me, as if waiting for me to type something, anything.
My hand hovered over the keyboard, my fingers itching to grab the mouse and open Internet Explorer. I’d read just one or two short Harry Potter fics for inspiration. Then I’d write something original.
Stop, I thought. It’s a lie. You’ll write another Harry Potter fan fic. You’re obsessed. Just think. J.K. Rowling was your age when she first started writing Harry Potter. You’re not too young to write original stuff.
With a sigh, I refocused my concentration on the screen. The door was closed. My cats couldn’t jump on me. As long as I didn’t start playing the Sims 2, I’d be good. I knew I could waste whole Saturday afternoons playing that game.
“Hannah’s Rainbow,” I typed. I smiled at the words. I had a story to tell, my late grandma’s story about her life and her rainbow.
Twenty-six was more than old enough to write it.