I have wanted to be a writer ~ no, scratch that ~ an author since I was a young girl. As a small child, I was fascinated with not only books but the people who wrote them. I thought they must live enchanted lives because they had the gift of such incredible imagination. I, myself, started to imagine things. Namely, I started to think that I could live such a marvelous life. I didn't grow up in a household that celebrated the wondrous moments of life, though. There were no "Happy Birthday" cakes filled with candles waiting for me to wish upon. My Christmas stockings weren't filled with "How to Hone Your Craft" writing books. There were no stockings at all, nor a tree or other celebrations that would suggest we were anything but devoted Jehovah's Witnesses. If I wanted inspiration, then I would have to just dig down deep and search for it inside. There's just one small problem with that...
I'm not the most disciplined individual in the world. Need proof? My bathroom scale will confess that I have yet to successful master an exercise and diet routine. Now, imagine putting words to paper and making a whole book. Yep! I was definitely going to need a goal to work towards ~ something that would drive me to finish. I could think of nothing better than trying to hit bestseller lists. Yes, I know there are writers out there who "poo poo" the idea of such increments of measure. There are literary snobs who believe that lists are all rigged and the commercial work isn't "real" writing. Then again, many of those same authors believe the only "real" writing is obscure poetry or some exclusive cannon taking a disturbing tryst down memory lane by featuring some old white guy with an obsession for a teenage beauty. I don't measure my success by their standards. I measure it by the readers who are interested in my stories and far-too-honest poems, essays and personal reflections. They are the ones who choose whether or not something is worthy to read. So, it is with heartfelt thanks that I recognize them ~ that is, YOU ~ today. Without you lovely readers, I would not have made it onto the USA Today bestseller's list... on a day that never really meant anything to anyone except me. What sweeter birthday gift could I ever receive?
