When I was four years old, I made up a poem and announced that I wanted to be a writer. I didn't do much to further that except for an essay on Texas history in sixth grade.
Long after that when I was busy fulfilling my 1950's destiny and becoming a housewife, that dream re-emerged. I began writing children's stories and also poems about motherhood. None were accepted and eventually I put writing aside again. Then one day I saw a book called Someday You'll Write, bought it and told myself that someday I'd write something a publisher would love. But you know what? "Someday" is always in the future and if you aren't careful, "someday" will become "no day." It almost did.
Then one day I bought a romance novel and found my niche. I joined Romance Writers of America, formed a critique group and started writing in earnest. It worked. I began writing for Harlequin and later for Silhouette. I loved writing romance, loved the excitement of getting my author's copy of a new book, loved meeting other writers and fans.
Then my husband died and I just couldn't imagine romantic stories any more. I took a memoir class and wrote a memoir which came out in 2013. And I began writing personal essays for journals and anthologies.
So that's my writing history. I love writing the feeling of anticipation when a new idea comes to me, the satisfaction of completing a piece, and the added satisfaction of seeing my work in print. Of course, it's not always in print. I probably have ten times the number of rejections as acceptances but that doesn't detract from the joy of writing. I hope my muse keeps hanging around.
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