Working on my dream!
Some are established as authors at a very young age, while many 50 plus women (and men) still dream about it, and may even have manuscripts tucked away deep in the drawer. For others the novel, short story or poem is still inside the head, ready to be written down. Then there is that step to show it to the world. Can be scary! But if it is good, why not let others take part of it? Meet a woman who has been writing for many years and now are working on her true dream.
Name: Deirdre Hall
Occupation: Currently unemployed, looking fiercely for employment
Family: Three grown sons, three daughter in laws, seven grandchildren, mother, two brothers, one sister in law, three nephews, two nieces, one nephew in law, one great nephew, two great nieces.
Lives: in Montgomery, Texas, USA
How long have you been writing and what do you like the most to write?
I actually got into writing almost accidentally. I took a job as an entry level newspaper reporter and learned I had a knack for writing. That was in 2001, and then I wrote a book two years later on a whim. Never meant to publish it, but ended up having it self-published. It was fictional but reflected my journey into a divorced life and single motherhood.
I have written many, many short stories and recently finished a second book, still locked away in my computer. Both books are Christian fiction. I am currently attempting to write a four-book series with a "reader magnet" book to lure in readers. It was going to be sweet romance but I am struggling with that because there is so much more story to be told than just the romance aspect.
I just like writing about life and all its difficulties and idiosyncrasies. I'm thinking about putting my short stories into a book and calling it "Still Life." Just because life throws something difficult our way, there's still life to be lived.
Photographing is something else that you do. Are those things that you combine?
I love photography. My brother is an artist and he does water color, pen and ink, pencil and acrylic; he can do it all and do it well. I struggle to draw a straight line. But with photography it's different, that's my art. I try to see things from the prospective of the camera lens. Old buildings, texture, black and white, it all interests me. And it is completely separate from my writing. It's an outside passion.
Your children are all grown up. How did you find time for your creativity when they were young and lived at home, being a single mother?
I wrote poetry full of teenage angst when I was a teen. But then got marriage, had kids, and unfortunately divorce happened. My only creativity when they were young and at home was homework projects. My youngest was a senior in high school when I started writing. Though I was dabbling in photography. Today I couldn't write a poem to save my life. Okay, I say I can't write a poem to save my life but the truth is, I can but I rarely do. Poetry comes from a depth of emotion for me.
The last poem I wrote was when my son was in the military. His children missed him deeply that first Christmas he was gone. The poem was meant to evoke emotion from the reader, as it was an emotional situation for his family. I suppose I don't feel that depth of emotion at this point in life, the need to pour out the angst in prose. But then again, poetry has constraints, more so than simply telling a story. When I did write poetry, I wrote free verse, without constraints. No rhyme, no meter. But where ever the poetry came from way back then, that well has run dry.
We are all different, some like it to be quiet when creating, others do not mind people and noises around. Which one do you prefer, now when you can compare a full house to an empty one?
I can write anywhere. I'm pretty much an introvert, alone even in a crowd. But out and about I get inspiration from watching people. Started a short story by watching a woman walk across the parking lot while I was at a chicken restaurant. But I can be easily distracted too. When my grandsons are here, the house is full of little boy noise. And when they are gone the house screams of silence. I don't write when they are here; I give them my time and attention. Yeah, I don't need silence to write.
What do I see when I ponder the future I ask myself? I don't see anything. I have hopes and dreams for what it may look like or contain. But I can't see it. I try but hard as I try, my eyes are simply blind to it. I desire security, dream of good things for myself and those that I love, hope for love, peace and joy. These are the things I ponder; will any of them become reality? Will any dream come true?
The future is a gift we open daily, one piece of wrapping at a time. It will continue to surprise us and catch us off guard, as it should. Sometimes it will present great joy and other times great sorrow. It will remain a mystery until life is done. But I have to live in today, deal with today's issues. Tomorrow will have its own issues to be dealt with.
But ... yeah, I'd love to become a novelist! And yeah, I'm working on that dream.