From Drafts to the UTM Library: The Journey of Writing Checkmate: The Game Begins

A quiet beginning

There was a time when writing felt like something I kept to myself.

Not because I didn’t believe in it, but because I wasn’t sure if it was ready to be seen. Most of what I wrote stayed in drafts. Notes on my phone, half-finished ideas, stories that never made it past a first version. Writing existed in my life, but only in the background.

I didn’t call myself a writer then.

I told myself I just liked writing.

Looking back, that hesitation wasn’t about ability. It was about permission. The feeling that I needed to reach a certain level before I could take my own work seriously.

But writing doesn’t wait for permission.

It stays. It grows quietly. And eventually, it asks you to decide whether you’re going to take it seriously or not.

For me, that decision didn’t come all at once. It came slowly, through small moments of choosing to keep going.

Learning how to take writing seriously

That shift began when I stepped into spaces where writing mattered beyond just myself.

Writing for The Medium was one of the first times I had to think differently about my work. It was no longer just about what I wanted to say, but how I said it, how it would read to someone else, and whether it would actually connect.

It forced me to slow down.

To revise more than I was used to.
To think about clarity, not just creativity.
To understand that writing is not just expression, but responsibility.

With Vision CCIT, that process evolved further. It challenged me to be intentional with my ideas. To balance creativity with structure. To make sure what I was writing was not only engaging, but meaningful.

Those experiences changed how I approached writing.

I stopped writing just to get thoughts out.

I started writing to build something that could stand on its own.

That shift made all the difference.

Balancing writing with everything else

At the same time, I was still navigating university life.

Deadlines didn’t pause because I wanted to write. Exams didn’t move. Responsibilities didn’t get lighter. Writing had to exist within all of that.

There were days when it felt difficult to balance everything. Days when writing felt like something I had to push aside, even when I didn’t want to.

But I learned something important during that time.

Consistency is not about having perfect conditions.

It’s about continuing, even when the conditions aren’t ideal.

Some days, writing meant sitting down for hours.

Other days, it meant writing a few lines and coming back later.

But I didn’t stop.

And over time, those small efforts became something much bigger.

The idea that became Checkmate: The Game Begins

Like most things, Checkmate: The Game Begins started with a simple idea.

I’ve always been drawn to strategy. The kind that exists in chess, where every move carries weight and every decision shapes what comes next. There’s no shortcut to winning. There’s only thinking ahead, adapting, and learning from every mistake.

That idea stayed with me.

At first, it was just something I explored casually. But the more I returned to it, the more it began to take form.

The story grew.
The characters became more defined.
The themes became more personal.

What started as a concept turned into something that reflected more than just strategy. It became about pressure. About uncertainty. About growth. About making decisions without knowing how they will turn out.

In many ways, it mirrored parts of my own journey.

That’s when I realized I wasn’t just writing a story.

I was building something I cared about.

And once that happened, walking away from it was no longer an option.

From writing to publishing

Finishing the book was one challenge.

Believing in it was another.

There were drafts that didn’t feel right. Sections I rewrote completely. Moments where I questioned whether the story worked, or whether I was ready to share something like this.

That doubt is part of the process.

But at some point, you stop waiting for certainty.

You decide that the work is worth taking forward.

Publishing Checkmate: The Game Begins was not just about releasing a book. It was about committing to the process that led to it. It was about trusting that the time, effort, and growth behind it meant something.

It made everything tangible.

What once existed in private now existed in the world.

And that changes how you see your own work.

Moments that made the journey real

Along the way, there were moments that stayed with me.

Moments that reminded me why I kept writing.

One of those was meeting the Mayor of Mississauga, Carolyn Parrish, and having the opportunity to share my work.

It wasn’t just about the interaction.

It was about what it represented.

It showed me that something that started quietly could reach spaces I never expected. That writing, when taken seriously, has the ability to move beyond the page and into real conversations.

Experiences like that didn’t define the journey, but they reinforced it.

They reminded me that the work mattered.

From publication to the UTM Library

Recently, Checkmate: The Game Begins was accepted into the University of Toronto Mississauga Library and placed within its Fireside Readings collection. It is also now listed on the University of Toronto Libraries website.

Seeing that was a different kind of moment.

Not overwhelming. Not loud.

Just real.

Libraries are places where stories exist independently of their authors. Where someone can walk in, pick something up, and discover a story without knowing anything about who wrote it.

Knowing that my work is now part of that space means something deeper than recognition.

It means presence.

It means that something I built, step by step, now exists in a place meant for discovery.

And that’s something I don’t take lightly.

What each step taught me

Every part of this journey came with its own lesson.

Writing privately taught me honesty.

Writing for The Medium taught me how to communicate with intention.

Vision CCIT taught me how to be creative while staying structured.

Publishing taught me discipline and belief in my work.

And having Checkmate: The Game Begins placed in the UTM Library taught me that consistency, even when it feels small, can lead to something meaningful.

Each step built on the last.

None of it was wasted.

Embracing the internal roar

There’s a phrase I’ve come back to throughout this journey:

Embrace your internal roar.

To me, that doesn’t mean being loud for the sake of being seen.

It means not being afraid.

Not being afraid to take the first step, even when you’re unsure of what comes next. Not being afraid to put your work out there before you feel completely ready. Not being afraid to believe that something you created can matter.

For a long time, I hesitated.

But the moment I decided to take that step—to write seriously, to finish the book, and to publish Checkmate: The Game Begins—everything started to change.

Not all at once, and not perfectly.

But things moved.

Opportunities came. Conversations opened up. Moments I never expected, like sharing my work with others and seeing it reach spaces beyond my own, began to happen.

That one decision didn’t just lead to a book.

It led to growth.
It led to confidence.
It led to everything that followed.

Because sometimes, embracing that internal drive is all it takes to shift your direction.

And once you take that step, you realize something important:

You were never waiting for the right moment—you were waiting to trust yourself.

Where this leads

This milestone matters.

But it doesn’t feel like an ending.

If anything, it feels like a beginning.

Because writing, for me, was never about one piece, one book, or one moment. It has always been about growth. About continuing to improve. About seeing how far something that started in private can go.

There was a time when I wrote like I was waiting for permission.

Now, I write knowing that the work itself creates its own place.

And if you stay with it long enough, what once lived in drafts can find a home you never expected.