…too many others. I started writing because I wanted more Nancy Drew stories, but with me in them. No, I couldn’t replace Nancy Drew and be her. I didn’t want to be her or takeover from her, I wanted my own.
There was a movie…Orca…for some reason I loved that movie in the seventies. I bought the book and read it while we drove to or home from the Maritimes. Again, I didn’t want to be a character already there, I wanted to be in it on my own. I wanted my own animal adventure, encounter.
Michael Connelly’s Bosch, and more. I want to write that character…character like that. Story like that. Mickey Spillane…yes, so not politically correct, gender correct?, but I want to set my pen to paper and have that come out of me.
Write what I want to read? Write what I want to read more of is more like it.
I want the deep thriller mystery and the cozy. I want pure fantasy and hardcore science fiction. I want everything in between.
And what this all boils down to…I want to write like ME.
I know how to write. I know what I need to do to write. I have done it before. I have the imagination just need to translate it to the paper/screen.
What’s stopping me? Easy, boring, and uninspired answers I can give you and they all mean nothing.
Maybe this post should be: Here’s my kick to my own butt, bye, gone writing.