Project Hunter: Becoming the Author I’ve Always Been

MJ Wynn
May 5
3 min read

Updated: May 25

It's one of those quiet midnights where the world feels soft around the edges. I'm nestled in my writing nook, wrapped in my well-loved Eras Tour hoodie, while my salt lamp casts dreamy shadows on my notebook. You know those moments when everything feels possible? This is one of them.

And right here, in this perfect pocket of midnight clarity (maybe it's the late-night creativity flowing, maybe it's just the herb whispering wisdom), something just... clicked. Like when you finally find that word that's been dancing on the tip of your tongue for hours.

I'm writing a book.

Not just another "someday" project destined for my digital graveyard of abandoned podcasts and that one screenplay about talking houseplants (don't ask). A real, honest-to-god book. With chapters and everything.

📝 When Stories Choose Their Writers

I'm calling this journey Project Hunter (for now) 🤫, and if the universe (and my attention span) allows, you'll be holding this story in your hands sometime before 2030. It's wild to even type that out loud. Like, my hands are literally shaking as I write this at 12 AM, but here we are 🥺

Remember those stories that find you when you're not looking? That's this one. It's a spicy adult romance set in the vast Canadian prairies, where the sky feels endless and secrets can't hide (more tea coming soon, I promise! ☕️).

And y'all... this story has literally moved into my brain and started paying rent. It's that friend who shows up unannounced with takeout at midnight, demands attention during my morning shower thoughts, and keeps texting plot twists while I'm just trying to get through my daily coffee run. The characters won't. stop. talking. But honestly? I wouldn't have it any other way. 💫😅

They just... appeared one day, fully formed, with their own baggage and dreams and messy beautiful lives. They arrived with favorite songs, childhood traumas, and strong opinions about pineapple on pizza. And they're helping me put words to all the stuff we all feel but can't quite say - about wanting things, about losing things, about figuring out who we are in this weird world between pandemic recovery and whatever dystopian thing is happening on Twitter this week. Sure, it's fiction, but it's also... us? You know? 🌙

This story has literally moved into my brain and started paying rent.

😓 Real Talk: The Messy Middle

Let me share something vulnerable: at 16, my writing voice disappeared. Not in a cute "lost my muse" way, but in that deep, group home trauma way that reshapes your whole world. Writing became that thing I used to do, like those jeans we keep saying we'll fit into again someday.

Plot twist: at 33, something magical happened. Through roleplay (yes, really!), I created a character who kicked down my imagination's door and refused to leave. He became this story that wouldn't let me sleep until I started writing again. Like, proper writing. With chapters and everything.

Some days I'm living my best writer life, sage burning and crystal clutching. Other days? I'm in my blanket fort at 2 AM, stress-shopping journals on Etsy and Googling "how to know if you're actually terrible at writing and everyone's just being nice" (hello, anxiety, my old friend 👋).

But then something shifts. A sentence comes out exactly right. A scene falls into place like it was always meant to be there. And suddenly...

I remember why this matters.

I'm becoming that person who younger me needed - the one who shows up at the page, messy bun and all, ready to pour her heart out even when it's scary. The one who orders another oat milk latte and opens her laptop even when imposter syndrome is screaming.

Writing became that thing I used to do, like those jeans we keep saying we'll fit into again someday.

✨ The Road Ahead

This is just the beginning, and I'm bringing you along for every messy, beautiful moment.

The breakthrough moments, the creative blocks, the playlists (lots of Taylor, obviously), the real behind-the-scenes of trying to write a whole-ass novel while being a perpetually tired, eternally emotional, mercury-retrograde-fearing, crystal-collecting, cannabis-friendly millennial. 🌿

For now though?

Here's to believing in magic, even when the world feels heavy.

To creating something real in a world of filters and algorithms.

To making art that sticks around, even after the vibe fades, even after the trending sounds change, even after we've all moved on to whatever comes after TikTok. ✨

🌷 Signed, MJ