How it all began

Drinking coffee and sitting at the computer staring at the screen filled with words I need to revise, I wonder, "How in the world did I get myself into this?" After all, I am a simple stay at home mother with four children who are perfect (yeah right!). What happened to my days filled with "Blue's Clue's" in the background while I read a perfectly delightful and entertaining book about being a parent? My biggest challenge was making sure my son didn't clean the toilet with his toothbrush. There wasn't too much intelligence or thinking required, just a lot of common sense. At the time it felt wonderful, yet daunting. To have full responsibility of these children was overwhelming at times, but I was rewarded with hugs and kisses and messy fingerprints on my doors. Definitely worth it.

Writing is much like parenting. I develop my characters, love and nurture them. I watch them grow in ways I often hadn't planned, and occasionally one changes in ways I never saw coming. There are moments they make me laugh and moments they make me cry. Sometimes, just as with my own children, I am amused and proud, but often I am disgusted and irritated. There are of course "bad guys".  I love writing from their point of view, but it is unsettling all the same. My babies, the people I invented and brought to life on paper, develop a level of immorality I certainly do not approve of. It breaks my heart.  I love studying others and seeing what makes them tick, and I like looking into their lives and seeing the best hidden deep down in the worst characters and the worst inside the best characters; therefore, I do that in my writing. Although they are fictional characters, they are real to me and to my readers.  As I said, they are my children and are complex people. For me, character development for the antagonist is heartbreaking to write. I want everyone to be moral, just as I do my own children, but the complexity and diversity is essential to the stories, plot and character development.

My writing is offering me no income at this point. I look around at all the things we need, things my children are missing out on, and bills needing paid and wonder, "why am I not working full time and chasing a dream?" This question also brings to wonder why I began writing. Is working for nothing in hopes of gaining something worth it? Are my dreams worth the sacrifices? Am I hurting my children? Why do I have such high hopes and big dreams and where did all this start?

I have always enjoyed writing short stories here and there, but with no regularity. I went years without writing anything. After my grandfather died, I had a difficult time accepting his loss and didn't deal with it well. I drank too much, ran around with friends instead of spending time with family, well, I just went crazy! After a few weeks of this, I realized I had to do something to get over the pain, at least enough so I could make through a day. So I wrote. I was honored to have the privilege of being with him during his last eight hours and was with him when he took his last breath. I successfully put those feelings on paper (unfortunately I didn't save it and it was lost when my hard drive crashed), and I have to say it was some of my best work. Looking back over the story and seeing other's reactions as they read it touched me deeply and I knew I was onto something. From that point, I began writing short stories. It wasn't too hard, since I have a very vivid imagination and am a real day dreamer.

How did I manage to go from writing short stories for fun to writing a book and wanting to make this a career? I'll think more on that and answer it in my next blog. Until then, go read a good book and relax!