Weekly Blog Challenge #1- Introduction
I was born in Riverside, California and raised in a little town called Mira Loma. My parents bought the house I grew up in in the late 60s.
My oldest sister was three when my parents got married and bout the house and after a couple of miscarriages, my next sister was born in 1970. My only brother was right in between her and my next sister who was born in 1973. I was the extra baby, added on eleven years later in 1985, that my mom stopped at nothing to have. I think once I was old enough to have an opinion and my own way about things, it drove her crazy.
Mira Loma is a little town that has no sidewalks. I rode the bus to elementary school. My friend Liz always saved me a seat as my bus stop was the next to last stop on the way to school and it was crowded. After school was out, I would stand at the end of the bus line hoping I could get on the overflow bus where there was more room. I still talk to people I knew in elementary school and I’ve known my best friend since third grade.
My house was small and yellow. Three tiny bedrooms and one bathroom. I slept in the living room until my older sister and brother moved out. My oldest sister and my nephew lived in a trailer in our backyard. After they all left, it was just me and my youngest sister.
I rode my bike to middle school until by best friend’s mom offered to give me a ride. I hated school, and especially middle school. I was constantly getting in trouble for making my table mate laugh. I had to write essays for talking and not doing my homework.
But I wrote my first romance about this boy I had a simmering crush on. His parents shared custody of him, so he was only there half the year and he still played with Legos. It was ridiculous. My mom and sister found my story and I still have PTSD from the trauma.
High school was not much better, but I continued writing romances secretly. I wrote instead of doing class and homework. I would lie on my bed and write all evening while listening to music. I shared a story with a girl in my child psychology class who told me she loved smut, and she loved my story.
Because my family is deeply religious and very strict, and my mom is who she is, I never pursued writing except to beg to be in Journalism and extra English classes despite my grades being horrible. And after high school, my mom and I didn’t get along at all and I was so focused on getting out of there that I couldn’t write, I couldn’t even think. It wasn’t until I ran away from home at the age of twenty-one and got my own place that I started writing again. And not until my boyfriend saw my boxes of notebooks full of stories and encouraged me to keep doing it, that I even considered myself a writer.
When I’m writing, I write for the young woman I was when I couldn’t write or read because I was in so much turmoil at home, with my mom and with myself. That part of my life was dark, and gritty. I felt like I was on the edge all the time. But there were bright spots too. Little things that kept me laughing.
And now here I am. I’m thirty-two years old and have been a mom for almost a decade, married just as long. I still live around the same area, and I am writing. And I am happy. This last year I re-published my first novel, CHASING STARS after working and reworking it until I was satisfied. I have two more novels in the works to be published this year and the beginning of next year, and a short story in an anthology being released August 14, 2018.
So, that’s my lengthy introduction. I’d love to know more about you and what kind of books you love to read and what filled you with angst in your new adult years.