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If I had to pick one word to describe the best aspect of my childhood, it would be books. My mom instilled a love of reading in me from what must be Day 1 because I can’t remember a time I wasn’t being read to or reading myself from 3 years old and onwards. Almost any book I asked for, my mom bought for me — with the weird exception of Shel Silverstein books from Walden Books at the mall.*

We also went to the library all the time! Mercer Mayer and Arnold Lobel were two of my favorites, and I can remember sitting by the stacks reading these books right off the shelves. To this day, one of the things in life that delights me most is the cellophane crinkle of a library book.

The first time I wrote to an author was my senior year of high school. Having been enchanted (hoho) by Merlin, magic, and the Arthurian Legend as a child (thank you, Disney’s Sword in the Stone), I came across the Pendragon Cycle book series. If I’m remembering correctly, the jacket copy on the fourth book didn’t match what happened in the story – so I wrote to Stephen R. Lawhead, the author, to ask him about it. He responded with a typed, personal letter to say – I was right! The jacket copy didn’t make sense, and he would have to talk to somebody about it.

In college, my absolute favorite class I ever took was Introduction to Children’s Literature. I got up early the morning spring 1996 registration opened and stood outside the registrar’s office to be the first student registered, just to make sure I could get this class.

Nothing captured my interest quite like Mrs. Spore lecturing on James M. Barrie, the Brothers Grimm, or CS Lewis. I still remember the moment my head metaphorically exploded when she asked about the representation of Aslan, the lion, in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Of course, I raised my hand to answer. I was Hermione Granger before she even existed.

When I answered, “He represents the struggle of good vs. evil,” Mrs. Spore very kindly suggested that it was a superficial answer. A nontraditional student to my left raised his hand and answered, “Jesus Christ.”

BOOM!

To take Jesus Christ and turn him into a lion in a children’s book, well, let’s just say I was never the same after that when it came to reading books.

When I was in graduate school, I struggled A LOT because I had undiagnosed narcolepsy. My motivation and natural intelligence were no longer enough to keep me at the top (or middle) of the class. Yet, when someone introduced me to the Harry Potter books in my second year of grad school, somehow I found the time and motivation to read and re-read them throughout all subsequent semesters and summers. I would often think to myself, “if only I approached my schoolwork with this much enthusiasm.”

All to say books have been such an important and enjoyable part of my entire life. They inspired and intrigued me. They also played the role of friends when I had none and kept a lot of loneliness a shelf’s reach away.

For a variety of reasons, my professional life took me in a different direction from books. But when I was 37, I decided it was now or never. I had stories to tell and childhood dreams of writing to pursue, and I wasn’t getting any younger.

So I started writing. And I haven’t stopped.

I also learned as much as I could about the publishing industry and queried agents and occasionally even editors with my work.

It’s been over 10 years. Ten years is a long time to invest in something that may never be more than a dream. Especially when your heart can be broken on a regular basis because of the sheer amount of rejection.

Yet a few weeks, I took a big step forward when a literary agent offered to represent my work. I submitted my young adult romcom for her consideration and she loved it. Manuscript notes are coming and hopefully the novel will be on submission to publishing houses by late spring/early summer.

There’s still no guarantee the book will sell. Or that I will ever earn any money as a traditionally published author. Or that people will know me as an author.

But that’s not the point.

The point is, I said I was going to be an author. And I am! And now someone in the industry has also recognized that I’m an author and, oh my gosh, does that feel good!

Underlying those good feelings is also the comfort in knowing why I write.

It took me years to understand that my novels are love letters to the animals, people, places, and books in my life that I love so much that my heart can’t contain the love. So I take that spillover and I turn them into my own stories.

That way it doesn’t ever matter if one specific story sells. Because it’s meaningful to somebody somewhere other than me and that’s what keeps me going, especially now, 10 years later.

Thank you, everyone, for your love and support throughout these years. I have so much more love to share, and I can’t wait to turn them into stories!

*END NOTE
If you ask me now, 40+ years later from being denied Shell Silverstein books, what kind of writing/reading I am most in need of writing and critical thinking skills, my answer is (without hesitation) poetry.