When I was in the sixth grade, my Social Studies teacher thought I couldn’t read. In fact, she almost had me put in the ‘special’ classes because of this thought. But, I could read. Quite well. My mother is a teacher. Let’s go a little further in to this, just for a few seconds.
We lived in a not so great neighborhood while I was growing up and the people that lived there, and the people I went to school with, called me ‘white girl’ because I spoke proper English. I really didn’t have a choice. You did not use slang in my mother’s house. You had to be on the porch where she could see you by sunset and you didn’t stand on corners. Her philosophy on those who stood on corners: they aren’t real men because real men work during the day and are too tired to stand on the corner when they get off of work.
I completely agree.
Back to the teacher who thought I couldn’t read. She pretty much thought I was stupid and told my mother to have me read to her at night. My mother had no other choice than to get to the bottom of whatever the hell was going on with her non-reading daughter. My sixth and seventh grade English teacher was the first one to figure it out. “She can read. She’s just shy and reading in front of the class makes her stutter.” He also told my mom that we had to find out what I liked to read and then do book reports on those books.
So, my English teacher gave me a Goosebumps book and I stood at the front of the class room and rattled on and on about these awesome books. This lead me to buying The Silver Kiss at a school book fair. It’s a tragic love story about a teenager and a vampire.
A few months later I asked my mother to take me to see Bram Stoker’s Dracula.
I had fallen in love. I don’t think I knew love then, not really, but the theatrical version of Bram Stoker’s book had somehow drawn that feeling out of me. Vampires were beautiful and awful and loved so hard that death couldn’t keep them. After seeing Interview with the Vampire about two years later, I found out that they were also funny and vengeful and dangerous.
I wrote my first short story a few months later called Roslyn Jones. Let’s just say it involved me, dirty hat, a bullwhip and New Kids on the Block posters.
We will never speak of this again.
That’s how I found my love for all things supernatural. I’ve tried to read other genres and I’ve found books that I do love, Alice Clayton’s Wallbanger is hilariously sexy and funny, but paranormal fiction just keeps calling me back. I write paranormal fiction and I’m able to create worlds and species that keep me, and hopefully you, entertained.
They say you never work a day in your life when you do what it is you want to do. I work every. Freaking. Day. I go. To work. And one day, soon I hope, I’ll be writing (not working) from home as a full-time writer, kicking out books that people count down the days for.
I'm traveling down that road right now. It’s coming.