About Me
Secrets, Plot Wrinkles, and
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| Heartwarming Endings |
A Little about Me:
I have a confession to make. I didn't grow up with the “urge to write”
burning within my soul. I didn’t have characters clambering around in
my head, trying to get out. I did dabble in poetry when I was a teenager—
awful, sentimental pap which you’re more than welcome to read...but
then I’d have to kill you.
No...my urge to write was born out of desperation. I’m married to a
wonderful man who’s addicted to travel. My childhood dream of a picket-
fenced home (with a horse tucked in a barn in the backyard) flew out the
window the moment I said, “I do.” I still have that dream somewhere
within my subconscious, but newer, more attainable ones have risen to
take its place. For me, running out of English reading material while
living overseas was cause for panic attacks. Those attacks happened once
too often for my liking. Desperate times called for drastic measures—like
dreaming up my own imaginary characters and writing about them. My
first efforts are tucked blissfully out of sight along with my juvenile
poetry. But the process served to hook me on writing.
I’m grateful to my husband for dragging me to the farthest reaches of the
globe, because it helped me realize a far greater dream than horses and
quaint country homes. I learned that I can have anything my heart
desires. All I have to do is pick up my pen and write it into existence.
And the days when I'm not so happy with hubby? He simply becomes the
victim of some horrendous crime in my latest book...
I have a confession to make. I didn't grow up with the “urge to write”
burning within my soul. I didn’t have characters clambering around in
my head, trying to get out. I did dabble in poetry when I was a teenager—
awful, sentimental pap which you’re more than welcome to read...but
then I’d have to kill you.
No...my urge to write was born out of desperation. I’m married to a
wonderful man who’s addicted to travel. My childhood dream of a picket-
fenced home (with a horse tucked in a barn in the backyard) flew out the
window the moment I said, “I do.” I still have that dream somewhere
within my subconscious, but newer, more attainable ones have risen to
take its place. For me, running out of English reading material while
living overseas was cause for panic attacks. Those attacks happened once
too often for my liking. Desperate times called for drastic measures—like
dreaming up my own imaginary characters and writing about them. My
first efforts are tucked blissfully out of sight along with my juvenile
poetry. But the process served to hook me on writing.
I’m grateful to my husband for dragging me to the farthest reaches of the
globe, because it helped me realize a far greater dream than horses and
quaint country homes. I learned that I can have anything my heart
desires. All I have to do is pick up my pen and write it into existence.
And the days when I'm not so happy with hubby? He simply becomes the
victim of some horrendous crime in my latest book...
Contact me at:
tinajoyce@tina-joyce.com
tinajoyce@tina-joyce.com
© 2008-2010 website maintained by Tina Joyce |