Writing wasn’t my first passion in life. It wasn’t my second or my third.
It was the constant.
When I was a kid, I used to write stories using my classmates as inspiration. The only person who ever read my tales was my best friend, Anne. She was encouraging and honest, but at nine years old, how far can that encouragement and honesty go?
Later in life, I had a year that really sucked. My mom encouraged me to put those feelings into writing.
“Write about what?”
“Anything. Just write.”
I did. That story sucked just as much as my year did. But it got me thinking…
A few years later, I was commuting to Manhattan, spending 90 minutes a day in midtown traffic. On a New York City transit bus I started writing Pure Abandon. I finished it in 7 months and then sat on it for an ungodly amount of time. Why? Because I’m a chicken. (No offense to actual fowl.)
We all have an idea, a dream, a passion, a thought. For some reason, we push it to the side.
Is it the fear of failing? Possibly.
Is it the fear of being made of? Maybe.
Is it ridiculous? Absolutely.
So, at 32-years-old, I am putting on my ridiculous hat and stepping into a world I only dreamed of. Because in this space, I’m giving it a shot. One I didn’t know I would ever take.
I hope you enjoy my blog and more importantly, I hope you enjoy my book(s).