As I look back at these last thirty-four years of my life, remembering all of the different “stages,” it sometimes feels like I have been alive forever. Strange, huh? Some of my earliest memories are of my mother and I, walking around the city, collecting the autumn leaves that had fallen to the ground. We’d take some home and paste the beautiful rustic-looking leaves onto wax paper. I also recall times of wandering around the shores of the Hudson River with my father and older brother, looking for soda deposit bottles (glass bottles, in those days), to return to the store. My father was the only one working, while my mother stood home to raise my brother and I until we were old enough for school. So, any means of extra cash was helpful. And then there was the time when my older brother and his buddy influenced me into picking up a half empty bottle of motor oil (that had been tossed into the woods), and pouring it onto the railroad tracks. Honestly, I don’t know why I did it, because after I did, both of them suckered me into believing that the very next train that would come by would derail after gliding over the oil. So, of course, a little frantic me started to cry, not wanting the responsibility of killing a trainload of people. I took off my shirt, and wiped the oil from the hot rails, and my brother and his friend started laughing at me. Kids, huh?
Though simple, these memories (and of course a dozen more I could share), have always stuck in my mind. They were like a first “stage” in my life, and it seems I have gone through many stages, or periods, which, in some ways, differentiate from others, like “chapters” in my life.
Looking back, I can pick out all of the little elements that foreshadowed that I’d one day become not just an author, but also a creator. I used to draw my own comic books, create my own little adventures while playing outside by myself, spend hours upon hours playing with my He-Man, Thundercats, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle toys—sometimes pretending they were not the icons that they had been modeled after, but each one his or her own individual character that I would create for my own personal “adventure.” There was always so much fighting, just like in my novels. *laughs*
Would you like to answer that, Fawn? :)