C. Amethyst Frost

 

I was one of those kids who always had her nose in a book. If it was an especially good book, nothing would make me put it down--not school, not bedtime. I didn't care how long a book was. I would read it straight through until I was done, even if it meant reading for days at a time with no sleep. The funny thing is, when I was a kid, I read grownup novels. Now that I'm a grown up, I read mostly kid novels.

I always knew I could write. Naturally, I'd rather read than write when I was younger, but there were frequent times when my head just overfilled and I just had to get it on paper. To me, however, writing was not a skill. I thought everyone could do it. It didn't impress me. When I first went to college, I tried a large variety of majors, none of which had anything to do with writing. I wanted to do something admirable like photography or smart like engineering. In the end, it always came back to my true passion--language, writing, communication, anything that had to do with the written word. I went back to school for a final time and got my B.A. in Writing and Linguistics at Georgia Southern University. From there, I became an editor, journalist, and technical writer. I wrote magazine articles, news articles, web copy, book reviews, software manuals, really just about anything. While I enjoyed each new project, there were stockpiles of my writing that no one ever saw. For about 25 years, I'd been writing stories and novels, some complete, some incomplete. Every once in a while I'd submit a book to a publisher and give it up after a couple of rejections. There are dozens of dusty manuscripts in various places in my house, dozens of secret worlds that no one will ever know. That is, unless I do something about it.

Mourning Under the Bridge is one of my newest, actually. I decided to publish my most recent creations first, and then I might go back and polish off some of the older books. The problem is, new stories keep emerging and my head is getting very crowded. It's like emptying a flooded room one bucket at a time. Too bad I can't get a sump pump for my brain.

Anyway, you can expect many more novels added to this first one. I hope you enjoy Mourning Under the Bridge and every other world I open up to you.

 



RECENT BOOK REVIEWS