Writing is my Passion

Photo by: NappyStock | Nappy.com

Writing is my bag, baby!

I was lying across the bed with my pen and yellow notepad scribbling away. I’d just finished reading another novel from the Harlequin Romance series. Per usual, I wasn’t happy with their ending, so I was drafting a different storyline with an alternate ending.

Then I heard my daddy pulling into the driveway. I took a moment to peek out and saw that he was carrying a large item. I couldn’t tell what it was because a large gray canvas bag concealed its contents. Usually, I’d want to run out to see what he had. I’d have to be nosey later. I needed to get back to my characters.

A few minutes later daddy called me out to the living room. When I walked in, he and my mom were standing side by side. I thought it looked weird especially since both had these huge smiles plastered on their faces. I remember answering, “yes, sir.” Instead of responding, he stepped to the side to reveal what they were hiding.

My stomach flipped. I heard a scream leave my lips. It was an electronic typewriter. Not just any. It was a Brothers electronic typewriter. I can’t recall the model, but it came with the correction tape installed. This way you didn’t have to worry about wasting time stopping for white out nor haggling with aligning the paper afterwards. It was the exact model we used in my computer class. I hastily made my way over to the desk. I ran my hands across the top of it. I looked back at my daddy.

“Is this really mine?”
“Yes, baby girl. Now you won’t have to worry about your hands getting tired and cramping. You can type until your heart’s content.”


I probably cried too, but one thing’s for certain. I sat my tail down and began typing the story I was writing moments earlier. No lies, I sat there for what felt like hours just banging on that keyboard.

When I reached a stopping point, I sat back and smiled. One of my first characters, revealed herself – Giselle (oh, you just wait until I reveal her).

Anyway, in that moment, I felt like Stephen J. Cannell…


Yes, you better believe it. I even snatched the paper out.

And right there in the middle of the living it began…the making of Mo Flames, the author!

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