Maisie Knowles has hidden her identity and lies to everyone she knows to follow her dreams of becoming a successful author, but when she meets Theo Park, the actor playing the male lead in the movie based on her book, all the secrets she hid so well...
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All my life, I've been told I wouldn't make it as a writer.
Well, no, not all my life. The funny thing about people is their expectations— everyone puts expectations on someone else at some point and then becomes disappointed when that person doesn't meet them... but when did anyone ever ask for someone else to give them expectations?
For me, expectations from others started young. I loved reading and read way above my reading level. My teachers thought it was fantastic and kept giving me harder and harder books to read. Then, my fourth-grade teacher encouraged me to write stories one day because she thought since I loved to read, I'd like to write— and she got that part right. I started writing stories. It began with talking cats and dogs, and then as I gained the courage and ability to write better, I started creating original characters who were actually human. I filled notebook after notebook with short novels written out on lined paper.
My teachers, intrigued by my story-telling potential, talked to my parents. My parents, ever enthusiastic about a gifted child, bought me a laptop at age twelve to encourage my writing. They praised me as my teachers did— talented, gifted, creative, smart, beyond my years. I wrote my first full-length novel at age twelve, encouraged by everyone around me.
Back then, my parents were enthusiastic and supportive. And with their support, I became passionate and excited.
"You got an A+ on your creative writing? That's our little writer!"
"You'll be in bookstores in no time, Maisie! You're so talented!"
The more encouragement I received, the more effort I put into writing. I worked hard on multiple stories a week, typing on the expensive laptop holed up in my room. I wanted to keep getting that praise from everyone around me. I began posting online and gaining a following. Every day was exciting.
But as time went by and I got older, everyone's words of encouragement turned to words of criticism. Writing was not an actual job. No longer did they care about my stories and plots. They wanted to see me secure a stable future. They wanted me to focus on school instead and think about what would look good on college applications.
"You're writing again? You really should be studying."
"Staying inside all the time makes you look lazy, you know."
Then those criticisms turned to words of doubt. It didn't matter that I'd gotten a scholarship thanks to my writing— it wasn't a viable future for me in the eyes of my parents. It didn't matter that my stories were blowing up online— they were people I didn't know personally, and no one really understood online fandoms. It didn't matter that I grew up hearing that writing was my calling, and I'd spent the past years working on following that calling— it was now wasted time.
