Vengeance (The Vendetta Trifecta, #1) / The Vendetta Trifecta (ePub)

And I have been spending evenings with my computer screen and an open Word document ever since.
I went through other phases, particularly in college. But writing always found me. Again, there I was seeing the world another way, when a class was handed a writing assignment: 15 minutes, write about a bladeless knife without a handle. Others in the honors lit class described it, analyzed it, or tried to figure out just what it was. I produced a short story about a dying woman with papers to implicate the mafia hit men who had put her in the hospital. My professor refused to sign my enrollment for the next term if it didn't include his prose poetry class.
I was going to be his latest star, but I didn't want to write poetry, I wanted to produce novels. So after several semesters of poetry courses, I pursued my own writing. While I did this I also created, edited, and published an undergraduate psychology journal. I: earned my master's degree in bioscience, spoke in front of the American Psychology Association, apprenticed as a pastry chef, got a patent, and started a dance company.
By winning awards and accomplishing things, people seem to think I am "eccentric', 'unique', or 'maverick' rather than crazy. Those closest to me know 'crazy' to be a fact. But it's a good crazy.
It shows in my writing style, in the way that I view a story and can fit the whole thing together. I can link tales out of all the things I do, and the things I've done feed reality into the characters. Even while I write this, pieces of information are congealing in the back of my head and sewing together new plots. There's a twenty-year-old assassin hell bent on finding the man who keeps killing her victims, a young woman whose story is told simultaneously through three different timelines in her life, and a town populated by Mensa IQ inhabitants who can't get their own heads out of their butts. Then there's The Bobble, a bible for those aren't sure if they want to believe or not.
The experiences have given me many threads to follow. The poetry classes shaped me, and fed me with the ability to share the odd and happy angles of my life. They have allowed me to put textures on smooth papers, so that it isn't just the relay of the plot, but the true telling of the characters. It's getting crowded in my brain, and the characters are fighting their way out. Lord help them, they all want homes of creamy paper and thick covers under the protection of dust jackets. They should develop a little patience. As I align the proper points of view, one by one, they'll all be set free.