When I was in grade school I used to write all the time. I even had loyal readers from my class. Somewhere along the line, creativity got shelved in favor of practicality. I still loved English classed, and in college, nothing made me happier than seeing my grade would be based on essays, but writing fiction was really the furthest thing from my mind.
Fast forward through one very demanding business career to when I had my daughter and quit so I could stay home with her. She was a horrible sleeper, which left me with no time to myself, but about a year later that changed. I suddenly found myself with free nights and nothing to do (husband travels for work). One day this premise stuck in my head, and I decided to start writing it out. That ms sucked. I stopped writing the sequel when I realized the first one sucked. My third is resting and I’m about 13k into the fourth! As of right now, I don’t think either of them suck.