Five steps forward, zero steps back...

For as long as I can remember, I have been an aspiring writer, doodler and a professional reader.

As a child, I was often scolded for 'wasting every piece of paper in the house'. (Sad but true, my mom used to hide the notebook paper from me and give me rations during the school year.) I had more pen pals then I could keep up with, often pawning the 'not so cool' ones off on my friends who were in need of a NKOTB fan/friend on the east coast.

My kindergarten teacher said the following words to my mom (circa 1983): "I am going to get Sherilynn's autograph because one day, she will be famous..." Sweet words from a woman I detested because she made me take a nap on a rubber mat. Eh.

During elementary school, I would write short stories about my family... just for fun. I discovered the thrill of reading when I was about 8, starting with Judy Blume and then moving onto the Babysitter's Club. I would read & re-read the books until the covers were mangled and the ink on the pages was smeared. Funny, but my favorite place to read was the bath tub. My fingers would be crinkly and the water would be ice cold, but I would keep on reading. My brothers would pound on the door and I would rudely shoo them away... "Leave me alone, Claudia's watching that awful kid!! I have to see what happens! Use the other bathroom, stupid dork!" (Yes, I had anger management issues as a child. Being the only girl out of 278 children will do that to you.)

As an adult, my love of reading hasn't faded. Reading is therapeutic to me. It allows me to be in a different place and time, almost as if I am cutting up the rotting corpse with Kay Scarpetta. *gack* I've learned to love the Salvation Army book shelves. Why buy one book at Target for $6 when I can get 4 for that price at the thrift store?

I started blogging about 7 months ago after a bit of encouraging words from my girlyfriend Kadi. Her blog had me in stitches on a daily basis (She's a 30 year old mother of 7... how can her life be anything but raw in humor and chaos??) and I thought to myself, "Geeze... crazy stuff happens to me on a regular basis. Most of it seems pretty far fetched, but it's true! The black eye from the dog and the crazy ex in the flannel that broke into my home... I should put this on paper." And I did. Kinda. Blogging has given me the opportunity to spew my mind filth. It doesn't matter if anyone reads it, truthfully. I find joy in the art of expressing my thoughts whether it be on the Internet or chicken scratch on the back of an envelope.

Very recently, I was approached by #1 brother (I forget their names at times, there's so many of them...!!!) with some encouraging words...

"Charlotte's been showing me the friggin funny posts you make about your kids. You have a talent, an awesome one. Here's what I suggest you try. Write a novel. Seriously. You have a knack for storytelling right up there with John Grisham. Pick any subject you're interested in... like... say... your kids. Write a story about yourself, changing the names to protect the innocent. I'll help you get it published. Force yourself to write one page per day come hell or high water. Give it a year to be completed, don't rush it. Rough-draft it once. Re-write it twice, and then call it done. Don't do what some noob authors do and get frustrated because it isn't perfect.Seriously - you can send me rough drafts for editing."

Wow.

Right away, I asked myself.."Self, do you feel like writing a freaking book?" And then I answered myself (bear with me, I talk to myself a lot. M'kay? M'kay...) "Helltotheyes!" I've wanted to for as long as I can remember!

I'm at an awesome point in my life where I feel that I'm extremely content with all aspects of it. My job is chaotic, but I love everything about it (even the boys I work for!). Friends and family come first because, after all, they are the ones who have kept me semi-sane these last few years. *wink wink* And as for my love life... well, I suppose the best way to describe it is that I have stopped seeking 'love' in the generic definition. There's someone out there for me, I'm sure of it. Have I met him yet? Quite possibly. Who knows? However, I will not rush it. Period. See? Content.

Which brings me to the main point of this post.

It's time for me to break out of the Sherilynn Comfort Zone.

For the last 22.5 years, I have been the reader. I have read thousands of books, no joke. I have them seeping off my book shelf, my night stand, a stack on the floor next to my bed, boxes filled in my shed with books I've read that I'm not ready to let go of yet, etc.

And now, I am ready to be the writer.

*crossing fingers*

Wish me luck!