Thoughts from a writing mom

Hi loves, I know that this is a scary time for you all.  I saw your face this morning, my sweet firstborn, as the news anchor on the television told you that another police officer was killed and one is in the hospital today.  Forever I will remember the words you said the morning that you saw on the news that five Dallas police officers were killed.  You looked over at me and said, “Mommy, Daddy is a  police officer. I don’t want Daddy to die.”  I am sorry that I didn’t turn the news off sooner.  I am sorry you heard what they were saying.  The last thing I want is for you to be afraid. I need for you to know, first of all, how brave your Daddy is.  You already know, of course, how much he loves you.  You know him as the man who takes you to the playground and to catch fish at the creek.   The man who will jump with you into the pool.  The man who will make a bowl of popcorn, watch a Disney movie with you and sing ever...

Twice in this past week I’ve been asked “How did you get into this?” in reference to my second book coming out.  Because of the question, I wanted to go back a bit and share my writing history. It started early, actually. Shortly after I learned how to write, I began writing stories.  I do not have a lot of memories from the first grade, but I do remember writing a story about Halloween on orange construction paper cut into the shape of a pumpkin.  My teacher laminated the story and it was placed in a section of student stories in our school library.  I distinctly remember seeing it on the shelf there in the library, and feeling proud.  I knew then that I wanted to be a writer. My first business card, made by me at around the age of 10. I had a short-lived desire to help animals, also. I wrote short stories and journaled quite a bit.  I have a box full of old journals in my closet now (I cringe at some of the entries . . . I made some q...