I was in sixth grade when I read my first full-length novel. Finally, the big kids on campus, we could checkout the books in the ‘BACK ROW” (we called it the forbidden row) and there was one cover that stood out for me. The cover was haunting. Sad pale faces with blonde hair stood behind an attic window and looked out. Titled FLOWERS IN THE ATTIC, from the very beginning, I left my reality and jumped into the book.
The author V.C. Andrews had a way with words. The way they flowed, the way they struck at my heart, how I cared deeply about the pain the children went through. I’d go to sleep and dream about them. Somehow, they seeped into my very soul.
That is when I knew I wanted to be a writer. I wanted my words, my worlds, and my characters to transport the reader into a different kind of reality. I wanted them to feel the joy, the sadness, the struggles and the glory each time a character did.
My mind never stops inventing them either.
Signing a contract deal for my first novel is a dream coming true. It still seems unreal at this point and probably will be until that first printed book is in my hands.
I hope after sometime and few more novels under my belt, to help others achieve the same goals. I hope that when someone reads my novels, I will inspire someone as V.C. Andrews did for me.
Thanks again for the continued support and love.
*NOTE: Although now, a mother of three girls and a Christian, I would not recommend the series by V.C. Andrews to read (even for adults) as they are filled with incest and adultery. At the time, I faced a lot of trials in an unchristian home and I sought out reading as a comfort. I wish I could say I read C.S. Lewis or some other uplifting author, but it is what it is.