I've been toying with a series of writing posts for a while now, but I didn't know quite where to start. The logical thing to do would be to use the series as a journal, dedicated to documenting my journey as I attempt to write a novel. However, being over 40,000 words into my novel already, that just doesn't work.
Today has been a good day. I've just been given my mark for my creative portfolio (which consisted of three short pieces – middle grade, clean teen, and YA) which gave me 45% of my overall grade for my Writing for Young People module. I got a first. Add that to the first I got for my essay (on love, family and friendship in YA fiction) in the same module, plus the first in attendance and participation, I've only gone and earned myself a first in that whole module. Something that I am incredibly proud and happy about.
I've been telling my friends about just why this has made me so happy. It's not because I set high expectations for myself and love it when I actually achieve them. It's because, when you do well in something that you have little or no passion for it's good, it's fine, well done me. But when you love something, there's a strange and powerful urge, a desperation, to do well. And for me, doing well in this module, both the creative and the analytical side, means more than just a brilliant grade. It means, finally, I'm good at the thing I've found the most passion for.