Time and time again I am amazed at my life. I look at the ages of my children and think: did that really happen to me at that age? did I really have to do that when I was so young? How on earth did I ever survive my childhood? Where did I find the strength to continue on to another day?
While I was not completely on my own for these events, I always knew I was the odd one out, the black sheep if you will, and therefore any attention that was garnered was usually in the negative. Truth be told, I do not know where my strength to survive came from. I did take comfort and support in a few relatives that were present on occasion, but since those people were there on occasion, and not with me for the day to day, they were not to the constant that kept me afloat. The only constant in the equation was me.
During much of this time I dove into books, in truth, I devoured them. For years my afternoons were spent at the library. By the time I was at the end of my junior high years, I had read through the entire adult horror section and was beginning to wonder where I could possibly go from there. Shortly thereafter I moved to a different town, a different school and suddenly there was a whole new selection of books to pour over. Most of the books I read during this time were for classes, but almost all of them were enjoyed, and in many cases they were finished before the assigned time.
Then, when I was beginning to grow bored of the classics I met my husband and he introduced to me the world of fantasy. I was amazed at the selection of fantasy novels out there! There were so many to choose from! I still feel like I have not put a dent into them and there are so many more books coming out every year that I am almost feeling overwhelmed with the plethoria, but I’ve always liked a challenge and think I can make my way through a few new authors within the next few months.
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