My Story

How is it that I can write stories about imaginary people in an imaginary town, but when asked to write something about myself, I sit in front of the computer wishing I had any other assignment in the world?  Go to the dentist and get some sort of horrible procedure? I’m terrified of the dentist, but I’d rather do that than try and write something about myself. Stand in front of a crowd and entertain them for 15 minutes?  I can do that, but don’t make me talk about myself while I’m up there. But I’ll talk about myself in this story. For just a minute. Just know that as soon as I’m finished, I’m going to turn this computer off and go have some alone time with my Kindle and get lost in someone else’s imaginary world.  

I discovered my love of books when I was about 14.  I had surgery on my foot three days after school ended for the summer.  I was in the hospital for a few days and was bored out of my mind. My Granny knew I was going stir crazy and found the perfect way to help me out.  She went through her bookshelf and filled a brown grocery sack with books. There were a few novels by Stephen King, some from Tom Clancy, and the rest were smutty romance novels.  I was introduced to Johanna Lindsey, Fern Michaels, and Danielle Steele, and I loved them! I dove into that sack of books and found new friends, places, and stories that I hadn’t known existed before.  

Once I got out of the hospital, I was in a cast for the next few months.  During the summer while all my friends were enjoying the pool, I was stuck on the sidelines with a pair of crutches and a cast on my foot.  It wasn’t as horrible as I thought it was going to be because by then I had read every book in that first bag my Granny brought me. So, she brought me another and another until I was addicted.  

Romance novels were my drug of choice, and I haven’t been able to kick the habit since.   I was never without a book from that summer on. I carried my current read with me in my purse, and anytime I had a minute alone, I pulled the book out and got lost in the story.  I fell in love with Tom Clancy’s character Jack Ryan, decided I was never going to visit Maine because Stephen King’s books were all set up there, and wished I could be adopted by the Malory family that Johanna Lindsey had created.  

I love to read - that’s why I write.  It sounds like that’s just too simple, but that’s the way I see it.  When I read a good book, I feel like I am right there in the story next to the character the author has developed to the point of feeling like a full-fledged person.  I can see the room we’re in, the situation that’s going on, and almost hear the dialogue between the characters.  I can get lost in a good story for hours and always wanted to write characters of my own. Writing a romance novel was one of those dreams I had for years, but life got in the way and I never took the chance.  

When I was 26, I gave birth to a perfect little boy.  From the day he was born, it was just me and my Z against the world.  And I have to say, my boy and I made one hell of a team. When my son was about 10, I met a guy.  We were just friends for a while but then it turned into something more. Z and I added him and his two kids to our team.  I was living that romance I had always dreamed about. Of course, we didn’t have kidnapping, espionage, and deceit in our lives, and I’m glad for that.  I got plenty of those things in the books I still read as much as I could. I was happy with my life being a mom and a wife and working for someone else at an office job that made me a little bit crazy.  

When my son started college, he was not impressed.  He wanted to quit and ‘find his own path’, but I just couldn’t let him do it.  Life had gotten in the way of my college career, and I was working a job with no chance for advancement because I didn’t have a degree to do anything else.  When Z told me he was going to drop out of school, I scrambled to find reasons for him to stay enrolled. As horrible as it is to admit, I went with guilt. (Moms use that tool all the time - don’t roll your eyes at me!)  

I told Z that there were just a few things I wanted in life.  I wanted to buy a house of my own, watch my son graduate from college, and write a romance novel.  My husband and I had just purchased our home a year earlier, and Z was heading toward a degree. Two out of three dreams realized right there.  But my boy is not one to be pushed into anything, and he resisted. We argued. I cried, he raged, and finally, he gave me an ultimatum. If he was going to follow through with one of my dreams, I had to make the other one come true.  

Z made a deal with me: he would stay in college if I would write a book.  

I won that argument!  What a relief! The boy promised to keep his grades up and finish college.  Thank you, people - my work here is done!

I was content that I had won that battle and proud of my boy for sticking things out.  But my son is not one to sit back and let things slide along. After a month or so, he mentioned that I hadn’t started writing yet.  I blew it off and told him it would have to wait until he was out of college, and I could use his laptop. I had all the perfect excuses. I didn’t own a home computer, I didn’t have any type of space at home where I could concentrate, and I had a house to run and family to feed while working 40+ hours a week.  

Did I mention I raised a strong-willed son?  Yeah, I did. He was on me constantly about writing a book and fulfilling my dream.  So, I got a refurbished computer from Amazon, used my craft table as a desk, and took up a section of our living room to use as my office.  

I sat at that computer and wrote the first chapter of about six different stories, and I hated every one of them.  Boring. Blah. Already done. Not original enough. Ugh. But one day, while I was driving home from work, I got an inspiration.  A woman who fell in love but was on the run from a killer. As soon as she could safely do it, she’d go back to that town and find her man.  That man who looked a whole lot like Jason Momoa and owned a motorcycle. And, of course, she had to have a best friend cheering her along. But wouldn’t it be funny if the best friend fell for the hottie’s brother?  Oh yes! Twin brothers. Both hot as hell and they’re identical, so now, my world had TWO Jason Momoas. Who doesn’t love that idea?  

Before long, Home Forever was finished.  But I couldn’t stop. Lisa was sitting there in the corner of my brain, and she had so much going on that I needed to get her life down too.  And then she became friends with Kale - a badass who has a marshmallowy center only she can see. But badasses need love, too, right? He needs a badass woman to keep him on his toes, so here comes Terra.  

You get where I’m going with this, right?  

Now, the entire living room has turned into my office.  The family and television were moved to the back room, and I’m up here in my office space staring out the window and watching the birds as I listen to my Queen station on Pandora and plot the next drama in the lives of my people in Rojo, Texas.  There are dry erase boards with notes and lists hanging all over one wall and sticky notes everywhere with reminders about things I want to write. The notes app on my phone is filled with story ideas, lists of names I think sound cool and want to use for characters, and thoughts about other series I want to write.  

I’m living my dream.  I wrote a book. And then another and another. Now, I have so many more planned that it’s kind of daunting.  I’ve made so many friends on Facebook with people who love my characters and books. I’ve had to develop a thicker skin because of people who don’t like my writing and insult me via email and messenger, but that’s fine.  To each their own. More people enjoy the books than hate them, so I’ve got that going for me, at least. I’ve learned so much since that first book, and I keep learning more every single day. I can’t wait to finish the book I am writing so I can get started on the next one.  

My husband and kids have been awesome through all of this.  When I burst into the room and stand in front of the television to talk through a confusing plot twist with them, they don’t shush me and try and use their x-ray vision to see through me and finish their show.  They talk me through it and don’t get mad when I run out of the room and back to my computer so I can get lost in my story again.  

My friend Victoria doesn’t even get a faraway look in her eye as I ramble on about fictional characters like they are real people who live just down the street.  She listens, asks questions, and references the people like she’s right there with me in my little world and she knows all of them personally.  

The only thing that’s missing is my Granny.  She loved to read and gave that gift to me.  She would be so happy to know that I’m writing books, and she would be my biggest fan.  She would just laugh it off if I tried to tell her that she was the one that inspired this in me because she was that kind of selfless.  But she’d be right here beside me plotting out storylines, coming up with character names, and letting everyone in the world know that her granddaughter had found her true calling and was following her dream. 

Well, for someone who’s not great at talking about herself, I’ve rambled on enough.  It’s time to get back to work and jump back into the lives of my people, but first, one of my favorite authors released a book this week and I need to catch up with her people.