I’m a writer—an in my heartbeat, flowing through my veins, writer. I have no choice. I have to embrace it. Or suffer from the lack. When I’m in the grocery store or doing laundry, I’m writing in my head. I used to carry a portable tape recorder (anyone remember those?) and dictated stories whenever I had a solitary moment. I hoped then that no one saw me talking to myself.

Years ago, I took a self-defense class. It was a full-contact, full-force, intense workshop, very personal and emotional. At the end, everyone was asked to bring a token for their classmates, to express their experience. Some brought food, some jewelry. Me? I wrote a story.

If I’m not actually working on a novel, I watch people and create scenarios. Ideas wake me in the middle of the night and interrupt when I’m doing other things. It’s a persistent process that never quits. Sometimes it’s painful. I have to reveal secrets and bare my deepest desires. It isn’t easy, but what worthwhile ever is?

And I love books—reading them, seeing them in bookstores, checking out blurbs. I am constantly fascinated and amazed at the ideas that flow from other writers. I could spend days, weeks, in bookstores, libraries, Amazon. The most frightening and uplifting book ever written is Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury. It’s about a society where all books are destroyed. So, people become books by memorizing them and passing them on to their children.


opened book, lying on the bookshelf with a glasses

What about the actual business of writing? Sending out your work to others who may not share your vision is hard. No matter what level you are, it hurts when someone says it needs some work or they aren’t interested or you’ve chosen the wrong subject or good luck as long it’s somewhere else. But, have I actually ever considered not writing (okay, there have been those isolated pity party moments, I’ll admit). But overall, I can’t quit. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. It’s like anything you love. It’s a part of you and to cut it off would be unthinkable.

I can’t complain. I’ve had a certain measure of success as a writer. I’ve been lucky. And one of the things I feel very fortunate about is my ability to say what I mean. And people have responded to that.

In the moments when the going gets tough, I have to admit it’s the road chosen by me and for me and I have to keep going, one foot in front of the other sometimes, and sometimes flying forward. But always the same road.
DefiantBride_140x210TexasSummer-ByLeslieHachtel-200x300front cover (1)
Thanks Leslie and Thanks you all for coming by~