I started writing romance when I was 15. I fell in love with the genre after reading a series of historicals by Patricia Matthews and Kathleen Woodiwiss. I think I loved historicals initially because it was about women doing things they wanted or had to, in an environment that didn’t support them. I wanted to be that brave. I wanted to be that free.
Fast forward a few years, when the desire to be a writer was strong but the reality, as my dad was quick to point out, was that making a living as a writer was not practical. Thus came the degree in chemistry. But the desire never went away. I wrote. In secret, of course, because writing was not practical. And writing romance was enough to send my mother’s eyes into the back of her head. I certainly didn’t tell people I was a writer.
I came out of the closet as a romance writer, and proudly tell people I’m a romance writer. I still love the genre. I still love the fairy tale endings. Lately, though, writing romance is not like it used to be. I think that’s because dating is not like it used to be and since I’ve pretty much given up on romance and dating, I think I’m going to have to change genres.
My interest of late has been mysteries and horror, although the real world gives us enough of both. My latest work in progress is a thriller/suspense. I’m also working on a short story for a charity anthology, planning another anthology, and still editing a romance I’m shopping around. Guess I haven’t quite given up entirely on the romance.