My Writing Influences
I wish I could say that there was one amazing author, or
even a handful that have influenced my writing, but the truth is there are
many. Not just authors either, but movies,
shows, people, experiences, feelings and places.
I’ve been influenced in small and large ways, good and
bad. Every single book I’ve ever read
had something to teach me.
As a teen, I loved the page-turning shock of VC Andrews, the
scary thrills of John Saul and the sexy glamor of Jackie Collins. I gravitated to over the top commercial
fiction. At the same time, I fell in
love with Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet.
I was awed by the rich layers of BRAVE NEW WORLD and the emotional
truths of ORDINARY PEOPLE.
Later, I gobbled up romance novels, mysteries, legal
thrillers, chick-lit and the occasional quirky literary fiction.
All of those books influenced my writing. But what influenced me the most was a boy.
I met him when I was sixteen. He had brown hair and the highest cheekbones
I’d ever seen. We were sitting around a
table at a party playing quarters. Our
eyes met and held. There was a spark of
something there from the first moment.
Something I’d never felt before.
Something magic.
I remember the first time he kissed me, in a dark room before
he really knew who I was. It was wild
and secret, and it didn’t matter that I didn’t know his name. I remember the second time he kissed me, when
he knew exactly who I was. It was wilder
and it mattered more that it had any right to.
I remember my heartache as I watched him date a series of
girls who were never me. The thrill when
he flashed me a sardonic smile. I remember
deluding myself that having him as a friend was enough.
I remember the moments I almost confessed my heart. When I was 19, we sat in his car in front of
my house, talking about everything and nothing.
There was a moment of silence, and for a second, I thought maybe, but no. I couldn’t risk sending him away
forever.
And then, finally, the moment I finally told him how I
felt. Eleven years later.
We had grown up. It
seemed safe to joke about my teenage crush.
Only he didn’t laugh. His face
went white. He said it was impossible
because he had always thought I was the one who wasn’t interested in him. We were alone in a room full of people.
It was one of the best and worst moments of my life.
So many missed moments.
But I’ve found a way to get them back.
On the pages of books.
My own.
8 comments
I wanted to keep reading! So touching.
This was so moving, thanks for sharing :).
Thanks PB and Rosie. The story has a happy ending since I am now married to that boy :)
Thanks PB and Rosie. The story has a happy ending since I am now married to that boy :)
I love this story! And the happy ending - even better!
Oh thank goodness. I was about to go frantic wondering what the outcome was. That really is a beautiful story.
Okay, LOVE the happy ending! Fabulous.
Omg, thank goodness it has such a wonderful happy ending!
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