Writing has been a part of my life since I was old enough to hold a pencil. Actually, it was a red crayon and I scrawled loops and swirls across the bathroom wall. Do I remember this? No, but I was told about it. Frequently, as if I really knew what I was doing at the time and needed to know not to do it again.
Reading and writing was of paramount importance in my family and I could read long before I started school. There, A is for Apple quickly became boring and I was not the best behaved girl in the class. I read voraciously and still have many of the books given to me by my parents for birthday and Christmas presents.
The books I read at seven and eight years old were classics. Treasure Island, Westward Ho!, Lorna Doone and many more. The more I read, the more I wanted to write. As an early teen, and much to my parents amusement, I penned a series of stories about Virginia, girl of the golden west. All I remember now is that Virginia excelled at everything from horse riding to mountain climbing.
It was horse riding and working with horses that diverted me for a number of years. After that it was home and family, although I did tell my children stories and some of them were written down. Now, more mature than I’ve ever been (in years anyway) I started writing again. Seriously. And I love it.
My first completed novel was a contemporary romantic suspense. But I was a novice and couldn’t get the balance right between romance and suspense. I took the advice of publishing industry experts, and ruined the book. It was, I think, a bit like an artist putting one final touch to his painting and ruining it. That book still languishes in a drawer and may yet see the light of day.
I took classes and workshops, read craft books, gained a critique partner and finally indulged my first love – Regency romance. When I wrote The End, I felt great but the next day I was all but twiddling my thumbs. What to do with myself now? If I could complete one novel, then I should get on with the next. And in between times came the Bandit Creek Books project and that’s a whole other story for my next post.
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