LJ Idol: Week 6 - Not of Your World
In fourth grade, my life was irrevocably changed. I can still remember the exact moment I put fingers to the keyboard and began to write. And even more, the moment I finished the story, it was like a switch was flicked in my brain and I couldn't help it. Never again, I told myself, would I forget who I was.
I was a writer. That fact was unalterable.
More than anything, I thank one person for this realization-someone who inspired me, made me reach for more, opened me up to a whole new universe full of friends and love and fun and joy. Even though I haven't actually met her in person-or even on the Internet, to tell the truth-there is no doubt in my mind that I would not be here at this moment, writing this, with the goals of being published, without her.
Who is this person, you might ask?
It's simple, really, when you contemplate what generation I am a part of: the Harry Potter generation. The era of waiting up until midnight for those books, dressing up in robes, waiting anxiously for your Hogwarts letter, wishing you could just Accio the remote instead of getting up to get it yourself.
She's J. K. Rowling, of course. Who else?
I grew up in one of those families, the ones that seemed to decry Harry Potter as evil just because it included magic. They seemed to disregard the fact that they wholeheartedly approved of Lord of the Rings and The Chronicles of Narnia, both of which included magic. But apparently, since the Christian connotations were more apparent in those novels, they were okay, but Harry Potter wasn't.
For a while, I felt the same way because they were my parents and I thought they knew best. It changed when I watched the second movie and figured that maybe there was more to the story, that maybe I should dig out my battered copy of Chamber of Secrets that my grandmother had given me a couple of years ago and figure out what the big fuss was about.
So I decided to crack the book open and, sure enough: I fell completely and utterly in love, forcing my dad to buy me the entire series. I tore right through it, even finishing the fifth book in eight hours (including the time I was in school!). And it was one of the best books I had ever read.
It's such a cliché to say it changed my life. Millions of people all over the world have said it before me, and millions will probably say it after me, but that doesn't make it any less true. The story, from beginning to end, was captivating. Harry Potter lived in a world so similar to our own mundane Muggle world, and yet, with aerial sports, chocolate frogs, and giant three-headed dogs, it formed its own universe, and I fell into it, head over heels, unable to disentangle myself from my love of the series and its characters.
I remember lying in bed at night so many years ago-just like I still do today-listening to my sister cry over her boyfriend and thinking about Harry Potter. About the universe. I wanted it to be my life, I wanted it to be real so badly. I wanted to wake up on my 11th birthday with a letter from Hogwarts. The way the world was crafted, it just seemed real, like it actually existed and I could find it if I just waited a little while longer. Maybe my Hogwarts letter was just late. I knew that the book included magic, but to tell the truth, the series itself was magic.
Capturing that magic was one of my goals ever since I read the books for the first time and got taken aback by everything about the series. My first story-a Harry/Ginny story that took place between Order of the Phoenix and Half-Blood Prince-wasn't even close to capturing the magic, but since then...
I have never stopped trying.
J. K. Rowling achieved magic in her stories, giving me hope that I can do the same. Reading her books opened up doors, numerous doors, that led down corridors: first, there was the fanfiction, posting my first story on FF.net and reading all of the feedback. Then years passed and I read and wrote fanfiction. I met people from all over the world through my love of Harry Potter. That was our common thread: we loved Harry Potter with a passion that some might even call religious. Through her stories, I read and I wrote and I understood more about the act of writing than I would have otherwise.
Before Harry Potter, writing was just a hobby, something that I had stopped doing after a while, but the series propelled me right back into the art. It nearly singlehandedly formed my world of words and sentences and paragraphs and stories, gave me the push to start writing, and provided me the resources to develop and hone my talents.
I might have a long way to go but, then again, all writers do. I wouldn't be a writer if I didn't think there was more out there to discover and uncover.
All J. K. Rowling did so many years ago was open up a door and reveal a world at once new and utterly familiar. Since then, I have only had one goal that has remained in my head for seven, eight, years-
-and that goal is simple:
I just want to write-hopefully getting better and better as the years wear on and the wrinkles accumulate and I can barely see, but I never stop because I just love it so much. And I want to make sure my writing is a part of me that will never disappear.
--
This has been my entry for week 6 of therealljidol's seventh season. If you liked, please considering commenting and/or voting for me? Thank you. I appreciate all comments, even though I might not necessarily have the opportunity to respond personally to everyone. Blame my Anatomy teacher for that!
I was a writer. That fact was unalterable.
More than anything, I thank one person for this realization-someone who inspired me, made me reach for more, opened me up to a whole new universe full of friends and love and fun and joy. Even though I haven't actually met her in person-or even on the Internet, to tell the truth-there is no doubt in my mind that I would not be here at this moment, writing this, with the goals of being published, without her.
Who is this person, you might ask?
It's simple, really, when you contemplate what generation I am a part of: the Harry Potter generation. The era of waiting up until midnight for those books, dressing up in robes, waiting anxiously for your Hogwarts letter, wishing you could just Accio the remote instead of getting up to get it yourself.
She's J. K. Rowling, of course. Who else?
I grew up in one of those families, the ones that seemed to decry Harry Potter as evil just because it included magic. They seemed to disregard the fact that they wholeheartedly approved of Lord of the Rings and The Chronicles of Narnia, both of which included magic. But apparently, since the Christian connotations were more apparent in those novels, they were okay, but Harry Potter wasn't.
For a while, I felt the same way because they were my parents and I thought they knew best. It changed when I watched the second movie and figured that maybe there was more to the story, that maybe I should dig out my battered copy of Chamber of Secrets that my grandmother had given me a couple of years ago and figure out what the big fuss was about.
So I decided to crack the book open and, sure enough: I fell completely and utterly in love, forcing my dad to buy me the entire series. I tore right through it, even finishing the fifth book in eight hours (including the time I was in school!). And it was one of the best books I had ever read.
It's such a cliché to say it changed my life. Millions of people all over the world have said it before me, and millions will probably say it after me, but that doesn't make it any less true. The story, from beginning to end, was captivating. Harry Potter lived in a world so similar to our own mundane Muggle world, and yet, with aerial sports, chocolate frogs, and giant three-headed dogs, it formed its own universe, and I fell into it, head over heels, unable to disentangle myself from my love of the series and its characters.
I remember lying in bed at night so many years ago-just like I still do today-listening to my sister cry over her boyfriend and thinking about Harry Potter. About the universe. I wanted it to be my life, I wanted it to be real so badly. I wanted to wake up on my 11th birthday with a letter from Hogwarts. The way the world was crafted, it just seemed real, like it actually existed and I could find it if I just waited a little while longer. Maybe my Hogwarts letter was just late. I knew that the book included magic, but to tell the truth, the series itself was magic.
Capturing that magic was one of my goals ever since I read the books for the first time and got taken aback by everything about the series. My first story-a Harry/Ginny story that took place between Order of the Phoenix and Half-Blood Prince-wasn't even close to capturing the magic, but since then...
I have never stopped trying.
J. K. Rowling achieved magic in her stories, giving me hope that I can do the same. Reading her books opened up doors, numerous doors, that led down corridors: first, there was the fanfiction, posting my first story on FF.net and reading all of the feedback. Then years passed and I read and wrote fanfiction. I met people from all over the world through my love of Harry Potter. That was our common thread: we loved Harry Potter with a passion that some might even call religious. Through her stories, I read and I wrote and I understood more about the act of writing than I would have otherwise.
Before Harry Potter, writing was just a hobby, something that I had stopped doing after a while, but the series propelled me right back into the art. It nearly singlehandedly formed my world of words and sentences and paragraphs and stories, gave me the push to start writing, and provided me the resources to develop and hone my talents.
I might have a long way to go but, then again, all writers do. I wouldn't be a writer if I didn't think there was more out there to discover and uncover.
All J. K. Rowling did so many years ago was open up a door and reveal a world at once new and utterly familiar. Since then, I have only had one goal that has remained in my head for seven, eight, years-
-and that goal is simple:
I just want to write-hopefully getting better and better as the years wear on and the wrinkles accumulate and I can barely see, but I never stop because I just love it so much. And I want to make sure my writing is a part of me that will never disappear.
--
This has been my entry for week 6 of therealljidol's seventh season. If you liked, please considering commenting and/or voting for me? Thank you. I appreciate all comments, even though I might not necessarily have the opportunity to respond personally to everyone. Blame my Anatomy teacher for that!