One of my earliest memories as a child was the Book Mobile. A great big panel truck from the local library that would come rolling down our streets in the summer carrying adventures, fantasies and places far away. The sides were painted in bright colors and a cheerful voice would announce its arrival over a loud speaker. (I think that lumbering elephant drew more kids than the ice cream truck.)
My sister who was ten years older than me would run to the curb with me and my younger brother and sister in tow. She loved to read and she passed it on. Hot summer nights would find us falling asleep to the likes of Gulliver's Travels or Swiss Family Robinson.
My imagination ran wild at that age and never quit. I love the fantastic. One can go anywhere and do anything and so I did. The move from the world inside my head to the pages of my first novel was only a matter of time.
The first person to read my finished work, Fracture The Secret Enemy Saga
was my husband who reads like most people eat. I'll never forget what he said when he turned the last page, "I feel like I've been on a journey that I didn't want to end. Don't stop."
Those words have pushed me onward and there is no turning back. I wrote this as a Q and A post origionally at Goodreads to see what other writers had to say but the reach continues onward. So I ask,why do you write?
Wanted to say thanks for stopping by and commenting. I loved this post. It brought back a long forgotten memory. I also remember sneaking my mother's copy of Peyton Place and sitting in a corner behind a door reading it. lol
ReplyDeleteI originally began writing as therapy. Then, I discovered that I couldn't stop. My Hubby doesn't share the same sense of humor as I do, so I've learned it's better not to offer him the opportunity to read my stories. What a wonderful supportive Hubby you have.