I suddenly have Lou Bega’s Mambo Number 5 playing in my head. (You’re welcome.)
I guess I never thought I’d come this far. Four years ago I was thinking I wouldn’t be published before my thirtieth birthday. That was my original Big Dream, by the way. I was published a few days after my thirtieth in 2011. So I almost made it, and I have to be happy with that.
Now, three years later, I have several—holy crap, almost ten!—shorter stories out there, and in a few days my fifth novel will be out there for everyone to see. FIVE NOVELS. Can I repeat HOLY CRAP!
How did all of this happen? When I started writing fan fiction almost five years ago after having not written a thing in years, I never thought this was where I was heading. It wasn’t my intention to be a published author. Instead, I’d found a new fandom I enjoyed, found out I could relate enough to use someone else’s characters and write these stories some people actually liked to read.
That was mind blowing: Someone liked what I wrote. These days the feedback is less instantaneous and I can’t just upload a story I’ve just finished to some website and know that by the morning someone has left a comment. What hasn’t changed is the fact that I’m still blown away whenever someone who likes my books emails me to say so.
I’m not a big name in M/M romance and I probably never will be, but that’s not why I write so it’s fine. I write for me, because my head likes to get the evil bunnies hopping about out before I go crazier. I write because there’s no other way for me to live anymore.
Even when I struggle with real life stuff and health stuff or even the fact that I live a long way away from any big events that mostly happen in the US, the plot bunnies keep doing their thing and there will be more stories, eventually.
The next one that’s out, number five, is a story of a washed out alcoholic country music star Jasper and a truck driving, songwriting, tattooed ex soul surfer Cade. The story also has rescue pitbulls, inner struggles, coming out, families, and lots of music references I couldn’t help—the boys insisted.