As I’ve been immersed in my writing of late, from my newest project to plunges into older works, I’ve noticed some common threads. Most of my stories are set in a small town where people and places of great sentimental value meet me everywhere I turn. Funny. That’s the kind of place I grew up in, my hometown of Ballston Lake, NY, where everyone knew everyone and the whole neighborhood was my playground. My mother would send me out the door first thing and I wouldn’t be back until dinner time, whether I was diving in the lake, playing in the woods, or running along the railroad tracks. It was the best place…EVER… and in my dreams, I often go back to a time when all was right in my world, everyone I loved was still here with me, and there were no worries. I only had to be myself and let my imagination soar!
Another common trend in my novels…characters are dealing with loss, especially my leading men, whether they’ve been hurt by a girlfriend, abandoned by their mother, or lost their parents in a tragedy. Ten years ago, I lost Dad. I don’t think I really processed that loss back then, but it’s left a hole. I want to fill it, to go back and tell him all the things I didn’t say then, to be there the way I should have but I was in denial about the illness that whittled him down and stole him away. Not a day goes by now that I do not long for him. Eighteen years ago, we lost my husband’s father to a sudden heart attack, an incidence that is in my stories as well, that utter shattering of lives when someone is ripped away so unexpectedly. I’ve lost many others since that time and fear for the life of a good friend, close to my age now. To cap it off, I am adopted and I wonder if some part of me is always looking for the people who gave me up for some inexplicable reason.
I don’t know the answer, but I do know that my heart and soul are poured into my stories. I am sure they will touch others who feel how real they are. Everyone wants to take the long road home. Everyone wants to hold those they love and have lost again.