I Published a Book in the Library When I Was Nine— And Then Forgot About It

Dreams can come true, we just need to remember why we want them to.

Have you ever had a dream come true?

Apparently, I have. And it reminded me why I write.

The other day, I had a strange inkling to go through my childhood things. I had writer’s block and was procrastinating big time, so I ended up wandering the house for something else to fill my time.

In the storage room, there were several boxes of books, toys, and a random assortment of items that, upon seeing them, brought a sweeping wave of nostalgia. Most prominently among my things, I saw my childhood journal and was unable to resist cracking it open.

I’ve wanted to be a writer my entire life — pretty much since I could hold a pencil. I lived and breathed stories, but somewhere along the way, like many others, I lost my inspiration. Until I rediscovered my journal.

Lo-and-behold, nineteen years ago, I wrote excitedly in my diary I was now a published author. My first book, a short fantasy titled The Secret of the Dragon, had been submitted by my mother to the local library in their “written by kids” section and was now available on their shelf.

That section of the library was something I honestly did not even remember existed until now.

But upon reading that journal entry, it came flooding back; that little library two miles from my house, with its small shelf in the back with the spiral-bound, laminated, or simple stapled-together groups of pages that held each child’s imagination and pride.

And among them was my book, written about two bold princesses who discovered a seemingly dangerous but misunderstood dragon and befriended him, who then helped them save the prince and became heroines of the land. The princesses were based on me and my best friend, of course.

The pages weren’t laminated, but it had been put together at the copy store so it had a hard-plastic cover, front and back, spiral-bound, with a shiny title page showing a hand-drawn picture of the dragon.

For me, in all my starry-eyed innocence, this was a dreamy start.

I had already “published” a book, and they had put it in the library for all to see! Would anyone read it? Almost definitely not.

But I was nine; what more could I ask for?

Now, almost two decades later, I am amazed by that journal entry. I had been so excited, so proud, so utterly determined for the future. It was my dream to be a writer, and by golly, I was off to a good start! Nothing was going to get in my way.

But, we know how life has a habit of throwing curveballs, and things did get in the way for a while. Somewhere along my life journey, I started growing up, and my life took many a twist and turn.

I think dreams sometimes have a way of fading into the background when life gets in the way and then circling back around when we are ready to hear them again. But they are always there.

I wrote dozens of works just for myself over the years, but my dream of being an author became a back-burner idea — always something to work on later. But last year I managed to rediscover my true passion and get down to business, and… I started my blog.

I started showing other people my work.

I started journaling again.

I shared my passion with others and realized I could actually, maybe, hopefully, start getting paid to write what I want to.

And then I found Medium and started publishing here, too. I just wrapped up my first month, and I earned $9.40. Big whoop. But it’s the first real money I’ve made from my writing, so I’m choosing to be psyched about it.

And I’m pretty damn excited to keep going.

While it’s true that I haven’t published any other books yet (or arguably even a real one!), and no one really knows who I am, the root of my dream wasn’t necessarily fame or fortune.

It was to be a writer, to share my story, to add value to the world, and to hopefully touch other people’s lives. And really, I just want to write because I love it.

I have a burning need to get what’s in my head out onto paper. That passion is still there and going strong. My dream is more alive than ever, and I’m definitely not done yet.

And I know I’m not alone in feeling this.

Sometimes when we run out of inspiration, we need to take another look at why we started, and where that passion comes from. It can light a spark somewhere inside that we’d forgotten existed.

And that spark can re-light the fire.

I truly believe that dreams can come true — we just need to remember why we want them to.

© Samantha Blake 2020