I’m probably nobody to you. Just a name. A profile picture that doesn’t even show my face. I’m insignificant. Pause. Did I just say that? Yes. I’m insignificant. Just like a lot of people, I sometimes have to be reminded that I matter. And being that I’m probably nobody to you, it’s best if I rely on myself to remind myself that I’m not insignificant and that I matter. I’m lucky I can.
I write stories of love and resilience through abuse and trauma and mental health, and people ask me why? ‘Why don’t you just write an erotic romance novel?’ Firstly, I don’t want to, and secondly, there are lots of people who write those and they do it better than I ever could. My books can hurt. People don’t want to read about real life, do they? They want to read about hot couples or wealthy vampires or bears that turn into some kind of sexy professional. They want to escape the “everyday” and go somewhere else.
I respect that. I hate horror movies. I prefer to watch comedies.
Who are these people I write about? The little boy abused and neglected by his addict family? The little boy beaten up at school for being interracial? The little boy exposed to pornography and violence but no concept of romantic love? The little girl thought to have the perfect life who suffered emotionally and/or physically every day? I created these fictional characters, but it really happens.
There are countless faceless and nameless victims of abuse. But some may have a face you’ll never forget and a name you’ll get emotional about every time you hear it. They’re the ones you see on the news. The ones who became fatalities. The ones who were murdered to hide the sins of others. The ones who took their own life to escape from their reality. The ones who disappeared without a trace.
No. Not on my watch. In my stories the bad guys DO NOT WIN. The good guys DO NOT GIVE UP. And no one is faceless. Everyone matters to someone. So I write to give hope. I write family life, crime . . . love stories. Through all of that, these victims deserve a happily ever after. They are not faceless or nameless, they’re someone, and someone loves them wounds and all.
Hope and love. Always.