Not all writers are created equal, and there is nothing wrong with that. Some writers are lucky enough to have been voracious readers as kids. I was not of that breed. I was a daydreamer. My mind was always floating around in unearthly realms and, of course, my daydreaming happened a lot in school when I should have been paying attention to, oh…maybe lessons about writing and everything else. Yeah, I was one of those kids! I was highly ADHD. Seriously, if trapped in a class unable to run around, my mind would just go on a journey. So, yeah, not a lot kept my focus when I was a kid. I was caught daydreaming in class more times than I can count…but one thing is for sure. I was having fun. So, at least, I had that going for me.
However, the focus thing changed when I was a teen. My mom was a reader, so there were always books around our house; science fiction, mystery, paranormal, true crime, adventure, and horror. One day, after I jogged five miles, baked a cake, drew six charcoal sketches, and practiced a few Beetle’s songs on the guitar, I felt I needed something else to do. Go, go, go, was my motto, but the day had turned rainy, so a walk was out, and my friends were all busy. With nothing physical to do and nobody to chat with, I picked up a book, “The Manhood Chronicles.” I think that was the title. I searched for it online but with no luck. Anyway, I chose that book because a serial killer was on the loose in California; The Night Stalker and, of course, everyone was talking about it. With my interest sparked, and the serial killer book a good read, I quickly became hooked on reading. Soon I was consuming book after book and not just crime stories. I started reading anything and everything, in a frenzy of binge consumption. It was like ingesting vital nutrients that I desperately needed. It was a glorious awakening.
Then the weird and wonderful happened. I started to think I should write, put my daydreams on paper, so I did, even though I had a lot to learn about writing … oh let’s just say everything and more, but I was up for the challenge. After all, go, go, go was my motto. So, writing became another hobby of mine, an escape from the stresses of the rest of the world.