I’ve been writing just about my entire life, which, at twenty-one years old, I realize isn’t such a terribly long time. I’ve always loved stories, and my inspiration for writing was solely based upon my desire to have more stories to read. My books have always been catered to my personal wishes, and for that reason I’ve been reluctant to share them. Writing is my thing, that one thing that sets me apart and gives me something entirely my own. It’s been my own secret world where I can say anything, do anything, be anything. It has become part of who I am, part of my daily routine, to the point where I must constantly have a book in the works or else I don’t know what to do with myself. It’s strange and obsessive yet somehow completely magical, and I am very excited (albeit a little nervous) to be able to share this part of myself with my readers.
Terminal Regression, though the first to be officially published, is not the first book I’ve ever written. In fact, it’s the 35th in a long series of unrelated, unpublished manuscripts, most of which will never see the light of day and for good reason. I began trying to get published in a way that seemed the most simple option for a full time college student with no experience. I entered a contest and left it up to fate. My book One Wish placed as a runner-up in the Authors First novel contest, much to my surprise. It was a book about what I knew at the time, that school had way too much emphasis on testing and less on the students themselves. It was riddled with metaphors and exaggerations and the big, dramatic scenes customary of an eighteen year old’s writing style. And due to the attention I received from my friends about this book, I decided to make it available for purchase as a very low profile self-publication.
The next year, as the contest opened up again, I had just finished a book that was a little different from my previous works. It was about a girl named Laura, a girl whose life had taken a rather dark turn. It was a book in which the protagonist’s inner turmoil was just as destructive as the rigid and oppressive world she lived in. And I didn’t know if I was ready to share it. Parts of this book felt very personal, and I wasn’t sure how that would be received, I wasn’t sure if there would be an audience for that sort of story. But evidently there was.
This is all still so new to me, and I hardly know what to expect. I am very grateful to have found a publisher who appreciates my work and was willing to work with me so extensively to make this book the best it could be. I’m also extremely grateful to everyone who will take the time to read my book and follow me on this journey. I hope to make a genuine connection with my readers and that this will be an extraordinary experience for all of us.