I have been incredibly sensitive to external influences my entire life.
I remember one time when my family was discussing a recently deceased fellow, and my mother mentioned that he had died by swallowing his tongue. For the next several days, I held my tongue tightly between my teeth at all times.
I can also recall standing on the front porch one night watching a storm pass when I was a young girl. As we were watching, my mother made a remark about the blinding effects of lightning, and I immediately closed my eyes and felt my way back into the house to avoid losing my sight.
I wrote and produced my first play on the porch steps of that little house in Jimtown. I was in first grade. In all honesty, there was no script – I made it up as I went. But boy, was there a set! I used a cardboard box with the front cut out as the stage, clothespins as actors, and used a string pulled through a slit across the top of the box to allow the players to enter and exit the stage.
With the assistance of my little brother, I wrote several productions in that little house. As we grew older, we upgraded the stage by running a sheet across the living room. During intermission, we passed out candy bars which I had purchased with the money that I was supposed to use for my piano lessons. Thankfully, my mother never found out.
I married young and produced my first real show a few months before turning eighteen. By the time I was thirty-two, there were five more productions. At the end of my amateur theatre career, I had turned out three actresses and three actors.
Once I reached my 40s, I set out to become a registered nurse, and finished my nursing degree in 1978. After thirty-three years, I have retired from my nursing career, and finally have time to fulfill my passion: Writing.