On Sunday, I stared at the walls of my bedroom trying to sleep, but couldn’t.  My mind kept racing–work, science fair, Liz–nothing new.  But a new thought entered my head.  I knew I started writing in 2009.  And I thought–when in 2009? Even though I had already folded up my laptop and set it beside my bed (and was trying to sleep), I turned it back on and searched through my folders to find the earliest date and first chapter I wrote.

March 10, 2009.  That’s when I first started writing Falling.  I had called the chapter Aftermath (which later found its home in the Alone chapter).  That was the starting point.  The Origin.  Patient 0, if you will.  I set on a course that led to the unknown.  At that point in time, I didn’t know much.  I didn’t know much about Patrick, let alone his family and friends.  I didn’t know what happened to Liz to make her even contemplate what she was contemplated after the carnival.  I had no idea how intense her friendship would be with Patrick or what would happen with Becca.

And I certainly didn’t know that anyone besides me might be interested in finding out more about them.  While writing Falling, I told myself that even if no one else cares to read it I accomplished something and I was okay with that.  It truly fills my heart that there are people of all ages and from everywhere that enjoy the series and can’t wait for the next installment.   When the first book was released, no one was looking.  My husband and I bought the first book to make sure it came out looking right.  Now, still surprising to me, others have bought it before I know that it’s gone live.  Thank you.  The words are simple, but the feeling is deep.

A few years ago I had one of those leather bracelets that you can get personalized made that states the year I started the series.  I wear it every day.  It reminds me of the journey I’ve willingly undertaken and the commitment I’ve made to myself, Liz, Patrick and all of you.

I got this overwhelming feeling of something significant almost four years to the day.  Weird.  Unbeknownst me, I felt something life-changing happened to me–then and now.  It snuck up on me, but somewhere deep inside me, I knew.  Four years.  Four books.  One series.  And I’m not done yet.  =)