To be an author you’ve got to have some thick skin. Reviewers slam you, agents tell you no, doors are shut in your face, but you have to keep going. These things don’t bother me. I’m all about a bad review because it makes me a better writer. Every no I get from an agent is one more answer closer to a yes. I’ve been told I’m thickheaded so maybe that’s why the whole door slamming business doesn’t faze me either.

For me, the hardest thing to endure is my own self-doubt. There are various people in my life that contribute to this, but really it’s all me. This is what aggravates me about me. So, yes, we’re broke. My husband lost his job and we’re just barely getting by. I use this as an excuse for everything. Why won’t I go to the writer’s conference here locally? We can’t afford it. Why won’t I take some classes? We can’t afford it. And to be honest, no, we can’t afford it but I can still find ways to make myself a better writer. There are plenty of online groups, conferences, forums and other such things I could take advantage of.

I have a lot to learn. Since I tried to commit suicide my senior year, college just wasn’t in the cards for me. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I just wanted to get a job and get out of my house. Well, I did. And now here I am…a lot… of years later and though I’ve made peace with myself, I really wish I had an education. I have a strong connection to YA because it’s probably the only thing that got me through those months when my world was so dark. I want to write YA for YA, not like most of it is these days and YA for adults that like YA. I want to reach out from the pages and give that reader a place to escape and a glimmer of hope, that things won’t stay the way they are forever, even if it feels that way.

I’m going to keep at it, oh don’t you worry about that. I’ll always keep at it because writing is my escape and glimmer of hope that things won’t stay the way they are now forever, even if it feels that way.