My genre is fiction. Fiction allows me the full freedom to create imagery and a storyline that is totally made up, or can be based on a real situation. I can create characters and situations with no boundaries. Unlike non-fiction, I feel less encumbered by rules, walls, and lines. The facts are as I see them, and the drama is what I make it. I can just make stuff up. I can make people fly and birds talk. The sky is the limit.
The first thing that I remember writing was a story about a girl named Balerie. I know right, sounds crazy, but the story is true. It was a long (as long as summers in Michigan can be) boring summer. It had to be in the seventies and way back when we used typewriters instead of computers to type. It may have even been a manual typewriter, aka, not electric. It all started when I accidentally typed a B instead of a V(they are next to each other on the keyboard) , and that was how Balerie was born. I just decided to leave it. I can’t really remember what the story was about other than it was about a teen, which I was at the time. I think I was in tenth or eleventh grade . My best friend at the time, Niecy, was reading it as I churned out each page. She actually seemed to enjoy reading it and couldn’t wait for me to write more. This impromptu writing project kept me occupied and brought two friends closer.
This is the post excerpt.
Ivy Lee’s Rue is a novel about a warm, compassionate, and joyous woman who, when her life took a tumultuous turn, found herself at a crossroads, and was unable to make decisions for herself. This life altering “condition” forced her to give up the only thing she loved that brought her peace, moments of clarity, and immense joy. Although the circumstances of Ivy Lee’s life were not ideal, Ivy Lee made an ultimate sacrifice. She held some hope at the cliff of the psychological madness that would consume her throughout her life. The one thing that she loved ran so deep, but long kept family secrets and hushed decisions kept it close at heart, but just out of reach.