From the time I first learned to read, books have been my passion. Reading them, writing them, talking about them. Anytime you want to share your feelings with me about a book, I’m so there with you.
Before I leaned to read, my mother would weave a spell each night as she read to us kids from a big red-leather book filled with children’s stories. I’d give almost anything to still have that magical red book. Although I no longer remember the stories, I once had them memorized. They would take me places, teach me things, and I think that was when a little seed was planted. Someday, I’ll write a book, my child self swore.
Somewhere around ten to twelve years of age, I started writing my own stories to fill in the time between Nancy Drew books. By the time I was in my teen years, I forgot about that dream. Boys and schoolwork, and boys and best girlfriends, and boys were all that was on my mind. But sometime in my mid-twenties, I picked up pen and paper and began writing again. I didn’t try to get the stories published. There was no internet to find out how to do that with the press of a key to Google search, and no online writers’ groups to lend their expertise, encouragement and support. I just wrote them for me. A few days ago while going through some old files, I found a whole bunch of short stores I’d written during that time.
Then another dry spell came along as marriage, and a son, and a different career took up all my time. Even so, there was always that longing, that dream of being an honest-to-God author. Four years ago, I retired from my position as General Manager of a Harley-Davidson dealership, a job that came with long hours and working every weekend. It was a job I loved, but it wasn’t my dream.
I wanted to write . I wanted to get published. I wanted to experience the joy of knowing people read a book I wrote. That was my dream, one I’d had since a child, and I knew if I didn’t do it now it would always just be a dream. So I sat down and started writing. It was a Regency, and it will probably never see the light of day….What do you mean you can’t head hop? POV, what’s that? Then I discovered Romance Writers of America, I took classes, I found fantastic critique partners, and I got better.
My second and third Regencies, THE LETTER and THE TRAINING OF A MARQUESS, started finaling in contests, they began to get full requests from agents, followed by personal rejection letters. Was I discouraged? Hell, no. If an agent takes the time to write a personal rejection, you’re getting somewhere. So I kept writing and revising and submitting.
Then The Wild Rose Press offered for both Regency books, and I accepted. As much as I loved writing my Regencies, a series about ex-SEAL heroes demanded attention, so I wrote CRAZY FOR HER and on a whim, submitted it to the 2013 Golden Heart®, and was surprised beyond measure when my entry was a finalist. When the final manuscript landed an agent, then went to auction, only one thing went through my mind. Why did I wait so long to do this?
Because I allowed life to get in the way. That happens sometimes to all of us, but one thing I’ve learned from all this is, it’s never too late to reach for a dream! The proof of that is Lorna Page, who was 90 when she wrote A DANGEROUS WEAKNESS, and 93 when it was published. Well, just wow, if that doesn’t inspire you, nothing will because as you can see from Lorna’s example, there’s no expiration date on dreams. How cool is that?
On August 26th the first in my series of the men of K2 Special Services, CRAZY FOR HER, will release from Montlake Romance, and the second one, SOMEONE LIKE HER, is scheduled for a 2015 release, then there are three more books to follow.
Let me tell you, I’m loving this journey I’m on, one that was the dream of a little girl.
Have you had a dream to do something? Jump out of a plane (which I’ve done and it was awesome)? Visit a certain country? Write a book?