How does a book come to life when its author is an introvert who’d rather be writing than talking to people, most of the time. It’s not that I don’t enjoy meeting new people. At one point, I was known as a “social butterfly”. I’m not sure how, but it’s true. It was emotionally (and mentally) overstimulating. There were times I would go into bouts of depression because of it. People would say I had “too much empathy” and would absorb both negative, and positive energy from people around me. I really believe it was true. “Artists” tend to have that in common. In fact, I’ve always admired paintings by artists who were able to convey a certain element of pain and emotion through their work. Do you know the type? The pieces you stand in front of and nearly weep, for no other reason than feeling what the artist put into the creation?
It’s a gift and a curse.
None-the-less, I write because I don’t want to be in the limelight (even though I have to be, sometimes). I’d rather my characters have the privilege. They are the real stars. The story, emotion, events, drama…it’s all about them. I’m content to be behind the curtain, and watch them grow while they interact with each of you.
I’m working on the social thing, I promise. I vow to interact with other bloggers, other artists, and other authors a little more. They need just as much encouragement as I do.
And as always, my supporters will have nothing but my undying devotion. For it is because of you my characters have life at all.