What do dangerous chlorine gas, an exploding house, and a knife attack mean to you? Hopefully nothing. But for me, these were each experiences that I had growing up with my alcohol-addicted mother. Living with her was like trying to survive in a river of crocodiles. My life was often in danger and it’s a wonder that I wasn’t eaten alive.
I survived, obviously, but there’s something else–I overcame. I’m here to give hope and help to the hurting through my creative writing style which is much like story telling. Because I suffered and loved much, I am able to provide a fresh perspective on some of the most perplexing social issues facing our world.
Interaction with readers encourages me to keep writing these vignettes. I would love to hear from you. If you would like to respond in writing to something you’ve read, here are some things to consider: How did the article impact you? Have you had a similar experience? Do you have something positive to contribute to the discussion?
Today I got up eager to begin rewriting the epilogue of my new book, JoyRide. I wrote until I was called away from the writing. When I returned, I found that all the work that I put into the revised epilogue had disappeared. I searched the computer’s files, thinking it may have gotten misplaced. (Computers do the darndest things, sometimes.) But it wasn’t anywhere. Three hours of writing had vanished.
Once, I watched an ant as it moved a dead moth toward its hole in the ground. The moth was easily twenty times larger than the tiny fella but I don’t think the ant knew it. He pushed the moth until he encountered a rock in the way, then he climbed onto the rock and heaved the moth up and over the barrier.
Probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done is to write a book. For three and a half years, I’ve labored intensely over creative prose, sentence structure, grammar, and punctuation. Now, several revisions later, I am making arrangements for publication.
During this intense season of writing, many things have tried to pull me away from my current project, but my desire to help people keeps me going. Even when I’m overcome with writer’s fatigue and a zillion other things need to be done, my desire to help people through my writing motivates me to never quit and write until it’s done.