In 1988, I began to remember years of abuse I had repressed. At first, I filled journals, pouring out memories, emotions, and feelings.

Twelve years after I had my first memory, I tried drawing to describe those memories.

Next I explored poetry, lyrics, and website design. I discovered RapidWeaver for Mac. Website design had become another avenue of expression.

Ultimately, I decided writing of any type coupled with art fit my style of expression best.



In 2003, I had an amazing experience in church. The associate pastor asked if anyone wanted to let go of something and receive something in place of that. I shot up out of my seat and waited for what the Lord wanted to me to let go of and receive. I got up so fast that I was the first person standing. Next the pastor asked us to hold out our hands to release to the Lord whatever it was we had held onto.

For me, it was playing the flute in church. I loved playing on the praise and worship team. Though I hadn't yet played on the praise and worship team at that church, it's what I had done since becoming a Christian. I wasn't certain that the Lord wanted me to play the flute any more. I played and prayed about it numerous times and never received an answer until now. I imagined my flute laying in my hands and giving it back to the Lord for Him to do with as He wished. I felt the weight in my hands leave as I released my playing back to Him.

Then the pastor told us to prepare for the Lord to deliver something into our hands. What I received that Sunday morning was nothing that I expected, not by a long shot. Into my hands came an item which weighed so much that my hands lowered and I was forced to sit down due to its sheer size and weight. The huge and hefty item was a book. I heard that I would know exactly what the book contained. It would be filled with the stories He wanted me to write. The Lord told me one specific thing that Sunday morning; never throw away anything that I write. I kept my word.

Soon after I received that word from the Lord, I left the church and began writing fictionalized accounts of what happened to me as a child. I wrote my first story in November 2003 during NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month. It was the first time I participated in the writing challenge. I finished my novel in 23 days, 7 days before the deadline.



After my mother died in 2010, memories flooded my mind again. I had not experienced this phenomenon in twenty-three years. I wrote fifteen novels and short stories in eighteen months. All fictionalized work based on my abuse. To date I've written over one million words in six and half years.