About Ry Reed
I never thought I would be a writer. It's funny now because I couldn't imagine doing anything else. I was born to tell stories. It's in my blood, a bubbling flame within me I tried to ignore but it eventually burned any other option out of me...
II was in my early twenties. Extremely depressed, working jobs I hated, unmotivated, suicidal thoughts plagued me, in relationships I had no business being in, and I felt utterly alone. It’s the type of aloneness where you feel misunderstood, undervalued, looked-lover, and lost. I was lost trying to discover myself. I had been in college for years chasing careers rather than passions. But, at the height of my depression spell, my grandmother I was never close to grew very ill and we had grown close. She was a little woman, strong in frame, and boy did she have a mouth. She said what she felt regardless of how she thought you’d feel about it. She was authentically herself, until her last days.
It was a cold windy night in December I stopped by the hospital to see my grandmother at the hospital that I thought I would share a deep desire that I had told no one, I want to write a book and tell stories for all the world to see. My grandmother stalled for a second before calling a few nurses to her room. She proudly tells them that her granddaughter was a famous writer. Here I was, doubting myself in confessing my deepest desire to my grandmother and before I mustard up the faith to fully in myself, she professed greatness over my life. She died that week. But her words did something for me. She planted a seed that began to take root, probably before I was ready or willing to water. I was afraid. But, months after her passing, I sat in my parents living room, after a long day of work, with my laptop, and began writing the worst book that only sold one copy…
So I quit college, just for a year to focus on my craft. A very bold move for a twenty something year-old. I said goodbye to my college life, got a full-time job to cover all my living expenses, two jobs actually, and made a pack with myself to come home each day to work on writing a book. It was hard explaining my new obsession to my friends and family. They did not understand it, and quite frankly, I do not blame them because no one in our family or amongst my peers was a writer. No one knew a writer. And, being a writer didn’t seem as rewarding, socially and financially.
I learned very quickly what the words “lone wolf” actually meant. To be alone is to chasing an aspiration none around you desire to chase. You walk to your own beat very few can hear or would even want to listen to. That was me, the girl with the big curly hair who spent her nights and weekends at Barnes & Noble in the back corner, or course for aesthetic purposes, writing books about a teenage boy falling in love with a girl cursed to live life as a beast, a brother and sister who turn into superhero robots and learn how to save the world, and poems about loving yourself. I was, and still am a odd ball. And my imagination got worse. I had always had a vivid imagination. Sometimes, when I was a little girl, I was so clearly see myself stuck between two universes, the one we live in, and the one my mind layered on top. I would imagine a girl learning how to fly despite her family calling her crazy, I saw a circus ring master stop time to pick a flower for a woman who didn’t know he existed, I cried watching a slender boy crusted in mud cry when chosen to serve aside a lord, I smiled when a girl made of fire fell in love.
To be who you were intended to be, to use the gift the creator bestowed upon you is the most terrifying thing to do on the planet. Putting yourself out there for the world to see is even harder. Especially when you have to do it alone. The beautiful part happens after you showcase your gift and some random soul finds you interesting and buys one of your books. They find you more interesting and buy more books, gifting one to a friend and she too shares his enthusiasm and your name slowly spreads in praise and curiosity. Once I sold my first book, then second, then fifth, then thirty, forty, hundred…I knew I was onto something. I still believe I’m onto something. So, I still come home, after a long day of work, to write and see all the visions the creator allows me to see.
" When you fall, focus on learning how to stand up again."
- Ry Reed, Grey Storm Clouds
" Life is all about taking risks. Believing in an idea and running with it. Yeah, risks are scary, you might lose, but you'll never know what you're capable of until you give it a try."
- Ry Reed, White Orchids
" Love begins inward, not outward... "
- Ry Reed, the little red poetry book called heartbreak