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 |
