If was easy, everyone would do it

I don't think it's any great secret that I want to write. I can remember the first moment it occurred to me that it would be a job I'd like: I was in grade 5, and I wrote a short story that was supposed to fit into R.L. Stine's Goosebumps series. I only vaguely remember what the story was about. Perhaps there was a dog who, by some diabolical force, was slowly transforming into a spider-dog (that is, a dog with eight legs that lives in a web) and wreaking havoc upon the neighbourhood. Perhaps there was a boy who, upon discovering that his dog was no longer the best friend he once knew, had to make a choice whether to put it down or not. My major influences may have been Spiderman and Old Yeller.

I remember agonizing over the ending. Instead of coming to a conclusion, the story just kept on going. There was an introduction, rising action, a climax, and then...a plateau. A climax that continued on forever, the kind you read about rich, white housewives having with a certain kind of sexy Shaman on their trip to Guatemala (if you read Penthouse Forums (I don't read Penthouse Forums)). I remember thinking at the end, I like this. I liked imaging things, making things up. I was a very spacey kid, and even to this day I spend most of my time inside my own head. Not in a neurotic, self-destructive way; more in an imagining exciting things are happening way. Something will trigger a line of thought, and my imagination will takeover. An example:

I was walking home today, and I saw a kid, probably 12 or 13, reading a book. He was walking in the opposite direction, and when we crossed, he looked up at me with this crossed-eyed, squinty look on his face, and then went back to reading. At that point, I imagined him, a know-it-all grade 7 kid having just discovered good literature, confronting me about my knowledge of the book he was reading.

"You haven't read Rabbit Run?" He'd ask, mocking and superior.

"No, what's it to you?" I'd respond.

"I'm only 13 and I already know more about books than you!"

"No you don't. You know more about one book. I studied books for four years. I know more about them."

And that's about where the thought process stopped, because I realized I was having an imaginary argument with a child about who knew more about literature. The take-home point, though, is that's where 100% of my inspiration comes from, imaginary arguments and flights of fancy.

You're wondering what the point of this is. I'll tell you. I've wanted to write fiction for a little over half my life now. I've probably written hundreds of half stories. I've got enough ideas for an entire career of novel writing. But I'm really no closer to being a novelist than when I wrote the story about the spider-dog from hell.