Ellen ES Ceely

When I was twelve years old I sat in my closet in Tenancingo, Mexico, and scribbled down the scariest idea I’d ever had for a story. I’d been scribbling for as long as I could remember. Stories about Elves, talking horses, and pirates were constantly a source of joy to me. A longtime lover of Murder, She Wrote and Nancy Drew, I even ventured into the mystery category a couple times.

But this idea was different. Instead of comfort, it brought me fear. What if there were a land where nightmares come alive? What if this land of nightmares could control you, waking or sleeping, so that you walked around in complete and utter terror?

I wasn’t a fan of scary things. By this age I’d had more than my fair share of vivid nightmares for no apparent reason. I never watched anything that could be remotely categorized as “scary”. I also didn’t read books that set me on the edge of my seat. As far as I know: nothing truly horrible had ever happened to me before.

But the nightmares continued.

By the time I sat in that closet I’d dreamed of demons suffocating me in a silo, Satan beckoning me from the edge of a dark forest, and demons attacking me on the stairs. But the idea wouldn’t leave me alone. I had to write it down. As soon as I finished writing it, I stared at my notebook and then quickly stuffed it underneath all the others in my closet.

Fast forward about 15 years or so and you’ll find me in an apartment in Orlando, FL. The nightmares had left me alone for several years. I’d even taught myself how to stop the most common ones with some determination and effort to wake myself up and focus on something beautiful or happy. But by age 27, the nightmares were back worse than ever before. Almost every night I dreamed something new, and it was always awful. Some nights I’d wake up in a sweat 4 or more times because I’d have multiple nightmares.

Therapy helped. It helped with a lot of things. But the nightmares never quite went away. I’d gone through several major changes in my life and rediscovered my love of writing. On a whim, I dug out that notebook and read through the scribbled chapter. As I read, an idea sparked for how I could make it into a book. By the end of the week I had an outline, a plot, and names for main characters. An odd and wonderful thing happened: the more I wrote, the less nightmares plagued my sleep.

By the end of the year I felt stuck. I didn’t know how to get past a certain scene. So I stopped writing and ignored the book completely. Then one night Hadithi, a main character, came to me in a dream and told me to write. He needed me to tell his story. I argued with him, “But I don’t know what to write next…the last part I wrote has me stuck.” He looked me dead in the face and said, “That’s because it doesn’t belong in the book. Get rid of it and keep writing.”

He was right. In December, 2019, right before Christmas, I finished the first draft of what I’d dubbed Child of Shadows. To say I was elated is an understatement. Finishing that first draft was the most satisfying and soul-filling thing I’d done in a long time. 12 year old me has never been prouder and she continues to cheer on the writing adult I have become.

Do I sound crazy? Possibly. But I have yet to meet an author of fiction who doesn’t claim their made-up characters talk to them. It’s a wonderfully weird thing. So I hope you’ll indulge me!

On this blog you’ll find musings and writing updates. I plan to share stories of what it means to be a writer and how I go about publishing my book babies. My deepest desire in writing and publishing isn’t to become rich or famous. I hope to bring joy and entertainment to those who read my books. I hope anyone who picks up my work will feel less alone and more understood. If I can inspire one person to be braver and kinder and to fight the demons that they face, then I will be content.

And I hope you’ll be one of those people. Stay tuned.

-Ellen

To read more about my upcoming novel, Child of Shadows in my series The Legends of Zale, please click here.