What triggered my desire/need to write?
I think I have always needed to be a writer. I was unaware for years, preoccupied with more immediate needs. I was a reader, though. I loved words and I loved stories.
As a child, I devoured the Oz books by L. Frank Baum. Imagination? Check!
In high school I underlined the entire The Red Badge of Courage. Excising every unnecessary word? Check!
I slept with The Moon is a Harsh Mistress under my pillow. Setting as a character (and un-salacious sex scenes)? Check!
After moving to our northern Minnesota farm, I gained visceral appreciation for sayings that salt our language. ‘Couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn?’ I stood on a ladder and hammered nails into red metal siding when we built our barn. 60-feet long and 12-feet high (plus roof) is a big—and stationary—target. Verbal imagery bridges the divide between telling and showing.
What triggered me to write was a disappointing read. The author a) wasn’t close to her characters, b) had met her word count, or c) had a deadline breathing down her neck. (cliché alert). My writer seed sprouted.
Romance is the genre I love. Storytelling is the craft I am still learning.