Rain flip flops
Plops, plops, plops
Behold the first poem I ever wrote. I was either in the second or third grade. After reading it, my mother thought I was a writing genius. I kid you not. Now, for an elementary kid’s class assignment, it wasn’t bad. But the reason mother loved it so was because I wrote it. She was being supportive of me, and hopeful that her enthusiasm might turn into my promise. My mom’s faith in me is one of the reasons I am a writer today.
When I was thirteen my mother and I were in a drugstore where I spied a book that caught my attention and wouldn’t let go. A hard bodied blond man on the cover clutching a beautiful scantily dressed female is definitely an eye opener for a teen. I saw that book and had to have it. My mother was used to me asking her to buy a book every week. I suppose she’d rather spend her money on reading materials than clothes or whatever else teens desired. However, this was the first time I had asked her for a bodice ripper. Jane Austen this was not. And yet with almost no hesitation, she put it on the counter with the rest of her purchases. Captive Caress (yes, she bought me a book titled Captive Caress) opened my eyes to romance novels and I haven’t looked back since. It is a love that has lasted me for decades and for that I must thank my mother.
Seymore’s belief that I could do anything (including write) and her willingness to indulge me in a new passion (Captive Caress wasn’t the last romance novel she bought me, as you can guess) has molded me into the writer I am today. On this Mother’s Day I’d like to thank my mother for being a great person and an even better mom. Hopefully she’s reading this blog post and smiling down on me.
Happy Mother’s Day to all of the moms out there, you deserve every accolade you receive!