Throughout my years as a social worker, I met many young people who said they hated to read. Every time I heard that sentiment, it broke my heart, although I understood the reasons behind it. Most of them didn’t have early exposure to literacy. They weren’t read to when they were little. They were moved around a great deal, which meant both home and educational instability. At school, they were identified as poor readers. When they had to read aloud, they were mocked by their peers. Through those experiences, they were taught that reading was too hard – that it was something reserved for kids who were different from them – and they learned to resent the written word.

The tragedy of this recurring ordeal is that the people who learn to hate reading are the very same ones who need and deserve the advantages reading can offer. Reading awakens creativity, boosting one’s ability to tackle problems with innovative solutions. Reading broadens a person’s vocabulary and knowledge base, thereby increasing access to social, academic, and professional circles that might otherwise be out of reach. And reading offers a critical escape route – it is a perfect (and oftentimes free) coping mechanism, allowing people to take a break from reality and relax someplace else for a bit.

Reading alters perspectives. It can make the ordinary seem magical.

When I decided to write books, I had two objectives. One was to share compelling stories that would entertain readers, and the other was to make those stories accessible enough for even the most vehement non-readers to enjoy. Because I’ve witnessed the beauty of those conversions – when stories are written in a way that takes people from “I hate reading!” to “I need to tell you about this book!” When those same folks can’t put a book down, because they’re so intrigued. When they anxiously anticipate the next volume in a series, or go to see a movie and report, “It was good, but not as good as the book.”

Because when that happens, people learn that books are meant for them, not just for the jerks who teased them in class. They realize that there are millions of other pieces of writing out there, and they decide to check some out. They start talking to other people about what they’ve read. Worlds open up. Perspectives change. Harmful cycles are disrupted. Some even start to write. They tell their own stories. They discover they’re capable of more than anyone, even they themselves, ever dreamed.

New & different heights = New & different views

That’s who I write for. Of course I want to appeal to a broad audience, but my hope is to reach those who believe they don’t like to read. I want them to realize that books are for them. I want them to embrace new identities as lovers of reading, because they deserve that luxury and all of its benefits. I want them to see that the world has a great deal to offer, and nothing should limit their potential.

And I know this is possible, because I’ve seen it happen, and it sure would be an honor to be part of that process.

Devon Sorvari is in the process of recording the audiobook for Aret (perhaps even as I type), and her last email to me began with these words:

“Okay, this is so exciting.”

And yes. She’s right. This is so exciting. Aret will be released next month with the audiobook soon to follow (provided I get my butt in gear and nail down an editor), and then I can focus on book #2. And #3. And another book I wrote that has nothing to do with dragons. Woo hoo! So much writing to do! So many stories to tell! SO EXCITING!!

Even more exciting than hurling water into your own face

…or swinging from exposed beams

…or getting stapled to the lawn.

When I sent Aret’s first draft (which was very drafty, indeed) to my husband in the fall of 2012, I had no idea if the story would make sense to anyone but me. After all, I’d written it while living alone in a tiny house on an island, and while I’d enjoyed the prolonged isolation, even I had to admit I’d gone ’round the bend a bit. Thankfully, he assured me it did make sense, which was far better than the response I’d feared, yet expected (“Come home immediately so I can check you into a hospital”).

And now, after 3+ years and I-don’t-even-want-to-think-about-how-many revisions, the time has come. It’s ready. I can hardly believe it.

I still have dozens of little things to figure out over the next few weeks, and my strategy for doing so continues to be: Go Paddle Boarding – but I have faith that everything’s going to come together and be fine, just fine. (Plus I have a nice tan, and my deltoids have gotten wicked strong.)

I may have utilized my go-to strategy today, in fact.

I once knew a guy whose girlfriend was fiercely anti-romance. Whenever he said something mushy to her, she’d call him the President of the Velveeta Cheese Factory. At the risk of assuming that position myself, I need to offer up some big thanks to the folks who’ve helped me get this far, because I’m so full of gratitude right now, I feel like I might explode.

To Frank, JR, Kay, Celeste, Sean, Kate, Sheri, and Andrea, who slogged through those terrible first drafts, offered ideas, and encouraged me to keep going. To Vicki Lane and the UNCA novel-writing class for flooding me with feedback from people I don’t know (which, as it turns out, is a good thing). To Betsy for the meticulous, word-by-word final edit. To Stacey, Susan, and Rita – the wonderful women in my writing group – who consistently urge me to slow down and show more.

To the members of my pre-release book club – thank you for the ideas and the laughter, and for introducing me to the concept of dragons farting rainbows.

To all the people who send me dragon stuff, from toys to books to costumery to memes to art pieces to Julie’s “fire-breathing sky dragon” that she pulled off the road to capture for me one day.

Y’all have no idea how much it means to receive all those dragons, or how cool it is to know that people encounter dragons in their worlds and think of me.

To Marcos and Devon, who enthusiastically agreed to take on huge projects, just because they’re so very awesome.

And to all the other members of my Aretian band (you will receive proper acknowledgements in the book itself) ~ I wouldn’t be this close without your guidance, support, and encouragement. Big heart love to you all.

This is so exciting. 🙂