I've always had writing on my mind. When I was a little girl, I would make up my own stories about places I wanted to visit or about the people in my neighborhood. I was raised as an only child, but I don't remember ever feeling lonely. My imagination was my company. As many people know, dreams easily get put on the back burner. It is easy to get caught up in the, "boy meets girl", "boy marries girl", etc... You find your world consumed with school plays, Girl Scout meetings, and dance classes. I'm going to be 48 on my next birthday and time doesn't seem to be slowing down. I, sadly, lost my wonderful husband last year. My daughters are grown and out of the house. I think it is finally my time.
I've had numerous jobs over the years. I've worked in the nursing field, sold real estate, worked in an abuse shelter, and have even been your neighborhood Avon lady. I went back to college and recently earned my degree. I'm happily avoiding the "empty nest" syndrome. No matter what I've done, I always, mentally, come back to writing. Now I have time to invest in perfecting my prose.