Journey into Discovery- My Introduction

Growing up in a dysfunctional family with one alcoholic parent and the other having no idea what to do with his life, she had to become independent to survive to adulthood. Drinking and drugs were great escapes from the madness of the family home.

---

---

As a child, always the “tomboy”, she preferred playing outdoors to having conversations with schizoid imaginary friends or playing with Barbie dolls! Her idea of fun was building forts, taking a dip in the neighbors pool or playing sports. Softball was a favorite, swimming was a close second.

Being such an independent child she rarely let her mind rest long enough to explore her creative side. Truthfully, that word was not even part of her vocabulary. Not excited by drawing pictures or creative pursuits in school, she stuck to writing the superficial silly book reports demanded by her teachers.

Many stormy days were spent reading books, or working as an assistant in the school library. It wasn’t long before the little tomboy discovered books recounting exploits of the early American settlers, hero’s of America’s West. She was hooked on reading. Not science fiction or scary books, just stories about how the West was won.

Good mystery books were a favorite when she could get her hands on one, babysitting provided the method to pilfer such treasures. By the time she was twelve she had read every Harold Robbins book in print. Trashy books were always a fun read, but romance was just plain boring.

Worlds expanded with books, they were her passage into other places and different ways to live.

---

---

One Christmas as a silly gesture for a gift she and her sister put together a montage of photographs slated for the trash can. For each photo they made up a story putting it together as a book. It turned out to be one of the funniest things they had ever done. The entire family got a good laugh out of it. This was the crowning event that began her creative explorations.

In retrospect their laughter indicated approval and in turn permission to explore the creative rather then more practical pursuits of life.

Not too long after that Christmas she began to write, the words flowed slowly, but the writing was more of a passion holding her intrigued rather then duty bound.

Organization was never her strong suit, she knew there were many ways to accomplish things. Realizing that although people may see the exact same thing at the same time, when putting it into words the meaning and essence differs widely.

Each individual mind processes memories and events differently. Her greatest desire is to find her writers voice, she has so many stories locked up inside waiting to be released. Perhaps then she could finally breathe, moving on from the memories and wreckage of the past.

---

---

Image Source