I'm a late bloomer. It took me forty years to decide what I wanted to be when I grew up. A children's book author! Perhaps it was reading Andy Griffiths, Tim Winton, Mem Fox and many other wonderful authors to my two young daughters that gave me inspiration. Perhaps the imaginative and adorable antics of my daughters in toddlerhood did it. Either way, the world of a child's mind is preferable to adulthood. So, sunrise found me in pajamas and fluffy slippers; steam rising from coffee as I pounded away on the keyboard, lost in a parallel of other worlds before my kids woke up and brought me back to reality.
But the driving need to earn a living and the disillusionment of trying to get traditionally published saw my menagerie of characters and stories stacked with the cobwebs on the shelf. Blessed early retirement, technology and the chance to become a self-published indie author saw a whole new possibility. I reverted to child imaginings once again, blissfully creating more characters to coddle me my in old age. My eulogy will likely say, "Not yet! I have one more story to write!"