PART 2 of a 5 PART Post >> Go to first post
My story as an author starts as a battle—an epic fight to express myself. See, I was a giver, a doer, a compassionate good girl who always did what I was told, putting everyone’s needs above my own. However, deep inside me lurked images and characters—sometimes dark, reflecting my outer world, but always magical, representing the life I wanted to lead.
As I fought to be responsible, make a living, and do for others, I pushed my dreams aside to make room for all the demands of the outside world. Consequently, my creative self, the one holding the stories inside, died a little each day. As a good girl, no one taught me to stand up for myself, and I allowed myself to become used, even abused at times by others in pursuit of their goals.
Now, I don’t blame them. I understand human nature (sometimes) and understand that they, too, sought to be loved, admired, and successful. Although their fears had gotten the best of them, I often got trampled in the process. But it is important to note that I wasn’t a victim; I allowed it. My heart went out to them, and I made the biggest mistake anyone can ever make. I tried to solve other people’s problems. I tried to release them from their pain and suffering, rather than face my own. I cheated myself, and in the process I stole their ability to know that they were the creators of their own lives.
Over the years, I kept that faint creative light on inside me. In stolen moments, I frantically typed story ideas. I wrote. I always wrote, and learned. I developed characters and even penned screenplays and novels in hopes of releasing these visions from within me, giving them life, giving them freedom—these things I so much craved for myself. I stumbled along the road to publication like many others—chasing the popular market with options that went nowhere, and endless agent queries that were close but not quite right, until the light had nearly faded from my heart.
By July of 2011, I had shed my dysfunctional relationships, and had been married to a truly supportive man for several years. My only bane was a corporate job that leeched a little creative blood from my veins each day. Then, one day I discovered that indie authors were making a living self-publishing, and that was the moment someone threw me the key to my jail cell.
When I walked out of that cell and began my journey to release these well-loved and arguably untrendy characters who had lived within me for nearly twenty years, my entire world changed. That creative light shone brighter each day as the characters sprang to life on the page, and the story blossomed into reality.
I feel so blessed that I am able to share these creatures of my heart with you, dear reader. The best of me resides within the pages of the ShadowLight Saga. My hope is this: if you are struggling in your own life, if you are holding your own dreams inside you like I was, as you journey with my characters through their struggles and triumphs, may you too find the key to letting go and live the truth of whom you are meant to be.
The following short story takes place a few moon cycles before Bonded begins. It is a self-contained story featuring the elusive character, Swan, called Astrid in this prequel. For anyone who has struggled, or doubted, or denied their own truth, this one’s for you.
NEXT >> Read Chapter One
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