Sunday, June 5, 2016

In The Beginning

Talking with some friends the other day, someone asked when I first got started writing fiction.  It took me a while to formulate a response.  As an avid reader, I've always been intrigued with authors whether it was a short story or a novel, who could spin a tale and draw me in. Those that kept me going until the last page were special.  And when some new piece of their work came out, I was quick to pick it up. 

What really got me started was the offhand comment from an old roommate's girlfriend. Knowing I was a mystery junkie, she brought me a book she enjoyed and was certain I would as well. The back cover didn't sound very challenging, but I was determined to give it a try.  Within 40 pages, I figured out who did and why. But to humor her, I read it all the way through.  Turned out I was right. So when I gave her back the book and told her that, she crossed her arms over her meager chest, stamped a foot and said "Well if you're so smart, why don't you write a book?"

If Neil Patrick Harris's character Barney from "How I Met Your Mother" was in the room, he would have crowed "challenge accepted!" 


Maybe that's what led me to taking creative writing courses in college. From there it was more English and journalism courses and of course, more reading.  The more I learned, the more I wanted to write. When a short story was accepted by the college's literary magazine, that just fueled the fire.

Nowadays I write whenever a free moment presents itself.  Here's a little clip from "Devious" the first book in the Jamie Richmond series, that shows the interaction between Jamie and her step-father Bert, who happens to be Captain with the state police. Hope you enjoy it.

                                                                   * * * *

"C’mon, Bert. Say yes and I’ll be your Valentine.”
The face splitting smile returned. “I remember the first time you pulled that.”
I came around the desk and planted a kiss on his cheek. “And who always sends you a card on Valentine’s Day?”
“You do.”
“And Christmas, Father’s Day and your birthday?”
“You do.”
“And who’s your favorite stepdaughter?”
“You’re my only stepdaughter.”
“Doesn’t that make me your favorite?”
“I guess it does.”
“So you’ll set it up?”
"Oh, all right,” he said with just a hint of disgust. “I’ll see to it. But if anything goes sour during the night, I'm giving the trooper specific orders to dump your taffy ass at the post.
“So are we clear? Any problems and they drop you at the post. Understood?”
I stood erect and snapped off a salute. "Understood."
Bert rose to escort me out to the lobby. I pulled a tissue out of my purse and carefully wiped the lipstick off his cheek. Bert was always fast on his feet, able to identify a problem and come up with a solution before I’d even finished speaking. I got the impression that I'd been snookered. He stopped me just outside his office, gently squeezing my elbow. “Why couldn’t you do something safe, like teaching or modeling?”
I looked down at my chest. "I couldn't make it as a model. I'm lacking a few of the essentials.”
“Bull. Legs like those could sell stockings. Hell, even I'd buy a pair." He gave me another brief hug then turned to go back to work.
“They call it hose now, Bert, pantyhose.”
“Hey, I’m an old-fashioned guy. Besides, stockings sound a whole lot sexier than hose.”

Here is an older post that you might enjoy.

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