I was born a storyteller. I wrote my first memoir when I was 11 and had witnessed my best friend struck and killed by a car. I couldn’t ‘talk’ out what had happened to me and my teacher knew that. She asked me to write it out. I did. I also buried myself in books, reading at a much higher level than others my age. Our school only had 30 kids from kindergarten through 6th grade and I lived for the days our bookmobile came and I was able to re-stock.
As a pre-teen, I snuck my mother’s novels from her room and read those too. I grew up scared under my covers, a Stephen King novel or Flowers In the Attic paperback clutched in my hands.
When my girls were young, I would put them to bed and make up stories to tell them as they drifted off to sleep. Stories of bunnies, kittens, and other things little girls love. My eldest daughter always wanted to main character in her story to be named Callie. Every story– always a Callie.
During the abusive marriage I felt trapped in, I wrote out all my feelings, fears, and hopes. It was therapy to my soul. I also lived in books again– finding solace and imaginary happily ever afters that I could only dream of finding for real one day.
After I escaped that hell and remarried to a wonderful man, we were married 10 years before we moved to China. While there, I kept a new journal of the travesties I witnessed in the Chinese orphanage.
When we returned to the states, I published that journal as a memoir. I thought that fulfilled my dream of one day writing a book. It’s called Silent Tears; A Journey of Hope in a Chinese Orphanage.
It would be another four years before I’d decide to write another book, this time a novel. It was titled Chasing China; A Daughter’s Quest for Truth.
Here we are ten years later with 28 years of a happy marriage and more than two dozen published books under my belt. I’ve worn out my hands and wrists to the point of tears daily. I’ve met my goal of selling more than a million books worldwide, but I can’t stop writing because I can’t stop creating stories in my head.
And they have to come out. Medication is too pricey. (just a little joke)
I will probably always write. And I know I’ll always read. My love of the written word can never be taken from me. The gift of reading is the best gift of my lifetime.
But I feel like books are disappearing at a fast rate. And it makes me sad that some children may never know the comfort of a flipping the page, or holding a book to their chest as a sigh of containment escapes them.
Printed books may die out one day but it’s up to all of us to keep reading for pleasure alive! Let the younger generations see you reading! Give books for gifts! Join book clubs and post on your social network about reading. YOU know the joy of reading and YOU can help keep it alive.
See more of my published works here: Kay’s Books