Childhood Passion

Another blog prompt from sleep is for the weakTell me about a childhood passion that somehow got left behind as you moved into your adult life. 

I was a writer.  I was also a gymnast, ballet dancer, singer, and actress, but above all I was a writer.  I wrote everything- poems, fiction, songs, and plays.  I loved family gatherings because I could write a quick play, gather all of my cousins together, cast and direct them, and put on a “show” for the whole clan.  I remember dressing up my five or six year-old cousin as Madonna and making her lip-sync to “Dress You Up In My Love” while a few others (including myself) acted as back-up singers and danced behind her.  I made my mom sit through countless Barbie plays and I even wrote stories for my brothers’ matchbox cars.

Above all, I just wanted to write books. 

They started out simple enough:

And gradually morphed into a little bit more (and I was fascinated with California from an early age):

And even “fancier”:

I loved putting a story together and playing connect-the-dots with the written word.  I was a voracious reader and I believed that one day someone would get lost in something I wrote. 

That day has yet to arrive.  Maybe it won’t, just like hanging out with Michael Jackson (circa 1984) will never happen:

However, my mind refuses to abandon that dream, even if I must resort to self-publishing as I did many moons ago.  Hopefully I will accomplish my goal before I die:

Yes, apparently I was a slightly morbid child.

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