Oddest Feeling

It's the oddest feeling being a Christian and writing stories which are contrary to those beliefs. I am drawn to write about my life experiences with my father who was a serial killer. I can't divorce myself from my past.

As the saying goes for writers: Write who you are. Who I am is a product of my upbringing. I spent my formative childhood years in the presence of three mentally disordered people who had personality disorders; my father, my stepdad, and my mother. The worst was being around my psychopathic/narcissistic father and second my narcissistic mother. On the other hand though, the experiences have given me plenty of writing material.

Updated My About Me Page

I decided to go back to the original information I had included in my About Me page. I wrote about how I started writing fictionalized accounts of my abuse. It began in church in an exercise directed by the associate pastor. I released what I'd held onto for a long time; wanting to play my flute on the praise and worship team. In return, I received the gift of writing whatever I needed to write. One thing I remember clearly which I promised to do; never throw away any book you write. Keep everything. And I've done that.

Memoir Now A Novel

Again? Yes, again.

I first wrote my memoir as a novel. Another writer suggested I write it as a memoir. It was a mistake listening to that person's suggestion. I've come full circle to understand that one must write what they are comfortable writing.

I've written suspense and mystery and thriller stories since 2003 when I first started writing my novel through NaNoWriMo.

Now I'm back to writing my book as a novel in crime fiction.

I finished
The Killer Inside Me by Jim Johnson. Noir fiction. The genre fits my novel


Wolfhounds Hunting Down My Father

I dreamt about Wolfhounds protecting me and hunting down my father. My father referred to himself as a wolf. Irish Wolfhounds hunted and killed wolves and elk.

This dream recurred twice so far. The first time happened after I submitted the first scene of my memoir to a critiquing site online. The second time occurred after I submitted the first full chapter to the site.

In some way, I believe this is spiritual warfare against what I saw and what was done to me.

The dream was powerful and I cannot seem to wipe the grin off my face.