I am not exaggerating. I love books. I love seeing them, holding them,
collecting them and reading them. In fact, my most favorite place is
standing in the middle of an aisle in a bookstore: standing under the
glaring lights, in the middle of a carpeted floor, and facing row after
row of endless options-- of books. I love the act of running my fingers
over the spine and carefully tracing the contours of each book until I
select one. One to pull out and hold in my hands, one to carefully holdbetween my fingers as I purse my lips. One to flip over in my hands as I stare at the cover art trying to decide if this is a novel that resonates with me. Each moment, is exhilarating and intense. Each minute with a book in my hands, is a measure in time that can be counted through my each slight inhalation of the intoxicating fumes of ink covered pages. Each flip of the page, each wordless skimming, is a beginning of a chain reaction that leads itself to the countless number of books that make it to my own book shelf, floor, bed, dressers and even work areas. Take one step into m living quarters, and you will undoubtedly find yourself in a living work of art; my home might as well be one big bookshelf for which I simply house my things.
So, its not hard to assume that I am not ashamed to say that books are my first love (second, is art, and oh-- did i mention family, never mind), and I indulge in it often. In fact, I still have the very first book I have ever owned on my book shelf. It is called Flutterby, and I found it in a yard sale. I remember I begged my mother for it, and she gladly paid 10 cents contributing to a habit that would follow me for years to come. The book was about a horse who burst from a cocoon with no knowledge of who he is, his origins, or his place in the world. That one book set the stage for a life long obsession. Who would have thought a flying Pegasus would teach me my little place in the world at such a young age?
However, I didn't want books to be my secret obsession. in fact, it is a very hard secret to keep as I am always with one. I couldn't live with just the thought of seeing them on shelves once or twice a week. I made them my career. I studied books, I majored in it, and then I even made a career of teaching about them. However, I don't want to stop there. I refuse. I have reached an impasse in my life, whereas reading books isn't enough. Its not enough to simply purchase my books from avid bookstores and as with any addiction it is time to take it to the next step. I needed to become a dealer, a supplier-- of books. Now, I had reached the precipice of my love and connoisseurship, I was ready to start writing them. Although, I admit that I have been dabbling in writing for years, every since elementary school like any good, book-loving bibliophile, but I have never really pursued it. I have decided to take another journey in the crossroads of my life into publishing. This is where things get tricky.See in order to write books, I had to exchange one type of obsession for another. I mean, you would think that writing books is the same as reading them. It isn't. It's not even close. One requires you to peer into another world and adopt its surroundings. It's a glimpse into another realm, while the other forces you to create one. To create people and situations and problems and heroes and beast; to create the Monsters that we all fear, the love that we all crave and the heroes that we all want to come save us from our on begrudgingly little lives. So, the hardest part of becoming a writer is that I had to stop reading books. Not completely, I'm an addict, but definitely not as much as before.
I know that sounds weird, but it's so true. To start writing books, I had to sacrifice reading them. I had
It was a novel ideas (pun intended) that eventually paid off. I was able to publish my first work of fiction in 9 months in the same amount of time it takes to have a baby (the symbolism is definitely not lost on me). Thus, I had to change my obsession and my passion from a hobby to a full blown profession, which takes a lot of sacrifice, research and time. Time from your friends, your family and even from your precious books. However, it's doable and that is my advise for every bibliophile that wants to become a writer. It's doable, but you have to be willing to make the sacrifices. You have to be willing to make the time, and you have to be willing to take a break from reading someone else work to create your own.
Regardless, that is why I'm starting this blog. This blog is meant to share my passion with the world in a unique way. Not only do I want to share my love of books and reading, but I want to share my love for writing. I want to give you a peek into my crazy life, and hopefully you come back with useful tidbits and information for yourself, so that you can create your own stories. As of today, I am more than just a bibliophile, I am a bibliophile turned writer.
Work Cited
Dawnell Jacobs is the author of The Shade of Devotion, Brains Not Included, Black Magic, and The Monsters of Within: Heart of Darkness. She has also published a self-help book Your Story Matters: Leaning How To Be The Author of Your Destiny.
You can find all of her books on Amazon, Kindle, Nook, and Barnes And
Noble. She is also a motivational speaker to young audiences. She uses her
personal journey to inspire hope and change. All pictures and entries in
this blog are subject to copyright laws. ©Dawnell Jacobs 2018. Follow me on twitter by Clicking Here. Friend me on Facebook by Clicking Here. Follow my Author's page by Clicking Here! Check out my Instagram by Clicking Here!
