My horse gave me a swift kick to the head. That's what really started it all. I've been writing since I was twelve and had a manuscript which I'd revised at least three times. The banks of the publishing industry river looked like they were edged in ice so I wasn't about to take the plunge. I figured it was something I'd do when I retired. No rush right?
So that fateful morning came. My husband and I were out feeding our horses and I was walking along merrily behind them (stupid I know!). They didn't know I was there (yes I win the gold medal for stupid). Something got them excited and they took off running, kicking up their heals. It's a horrible, hollow kind of sound when death comes knocking. I'll never forget it, the way his hoof sounded when it collided with the side of my face.
After the wonderful surgeon put my face back together I had a lot of time to think. I pulled that old manuscript out and started working on it again. Waiting for a retirement that may never come to pursue my dream suddenly seemed like a horrible idea. Then an old friend contacted me and told me he had been published. He asked if I had anything ready. I did. He read it and things took off from there. I now have an agent for the book (trilogy actually) and he's showing it around New York. I couldn't stop though. Since then I've wrote three others and am working on my fifth novel. Now I'm looking for a YA agent. Got a really good bite, I hope she likes how it tastes. But regardless I will keep writing and this dream will wait for nothing!