We have many “firsts” as authors, but at one point, the biggest thing in our young lives was that very first thing we tried to type up, known as none other than “my first book”. Today, I’ll tell you about mine.
I was thirteen in the fall of 2007 when I began the first chapter of my story “Runaways”. My plan was to take readers on a journey as Abbie (10) and Megan (13) road their bicycles from Tampa to the Big Apple in the hopes of escaping their alcoholic, neglectful parents. Their goal was to make it to their wealthy grandmother’s house and live with her.
Although I stopped working on it right as the girls went through DC, I had a big finale planned of the girls peddling right through the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, being seen by everyone on TV and finally revealing their location after they had been nationally searched for (as if that were really possible).
As I typed up those 80-something pages, I wasn’t thinking about the fact that two young girls could peddle through an entire state in a day, or that biking along a highway was legal and safe, or that motels would give rooms to someone with no credit card.
This occurred to me halfway through. I never finished. I mean, I’d have to start from scratch anyways, but I’d still like to finish it one day.
And there you have it. The unsuccessful, oblivious journey of “Runaways”. Maybe one of these days I’ll actually get back to it. Or…maybe not.
Have a good story about your first book? Do tell below!