I started writing because I've always loved novels. My favorites were the ones where I'd be so engrossed and sitting on the edge of my chair that I couldn't put the book down, no matter what. I'd stay up late at night reading when I should have been asleep so I could face the next day. As soon as I'd finish that book, it would linger in my mind, and I'd read all I could find from that author until I exhausted their supply of books and then become frustrated because it would be a long time before another book was available. So, I'd pick another author, one I didn't know, a mediocre book, and I would think to myself I can do better than that! Whether I could or not was beside the point.

I write because I'm driven to write. Some people don't understand this. They're not driven to go to work every day. I know they're not because I've been there. They do it to earn a living and to support themselves and their families. I get it. When I have an idea consuming what is normally my brain, I am useless. Just ask my family. That idea so consumes me that I have to get it written down because if I don't, I'm unable to function as a normal person, or even hold a simple conversation. It's like a cancer eating away inside me. I have to park myself in a chair, without interruption, and get it out. I don't want to know that someone is hungry, or have someone ask what I'm fixing for dinner. I don't care. There is a story inside my head just waiting to come out and I have to get those words down on paper. It might take ten minutes or an hour but I'm pretty sure it's more important than pouring a bowl of cereal. If you want a meal, go to a restaurant. If you want a clean house, hire a maid or clean it yourself.

Writing is not as easy as it looks. It's hard work. First, you have to think like someone you're not. Talk about schizophrenia! The characters come to life and play themselves out like a movie in my head. I can see it so clearly. Sometimes it's as easy as breathing and other times like wading through a swamp, but one thing is certain, I never quite know what's going to happen until it does. Often, I'll find myself thinking, "Oh, that's good. I didn't see that coming!" By the time I've finished the book, I want to celebrate. But it's still too early for that. Now it has to be edited, and formatted for the retail site that will sell my book, and I have to get a book cover made so even the euphoria of finishing the book still has hurdles to overcome. And, what's worse is I probably don't have any friends left. I've pushed everything aside to write that book.

Then comes the absolute torture and I mean, hold me down, pull my eyelids back and pour water on my face, torture! I worry myself almost sick wondering if anyone besides me, my family and close friends will like my book. I agonize over whether the book will sell until the reviews start coming in. When I get a poor review, I feel like someone has stabbed me in the heart even though I know in my mind my books are not for everyone and that it's just one opinion. I've learned to develop a pretty thick skin, let me tell you. When I read a good review, I do the happy dance and throw air-kisses to the reviewer. Up, down, up, down go the emotions. Even if people didn't like my books, which I'm fortunate the majority do, I'd still want to write. I'm a writer. It's what I do and I love it.