It wasn't until many years later that I realized a.) Dad had never been to darkestAfrica, and b.) most of his adventures were awfully similar to the plots of Tarzan movies (the Johnny Weissmuller ones.) But that didn't matter, it was the telling of the stories that was wonderful. Throughout my childhood I can remember hundreds of picnics, parties, get-togethers or just sittin-on-the-porch times when someone would say the magic words, "Remember the time that..." and another story would begin. I grew up loving stories and I've loved them all my life.
I write books for one reason: I love telling stories. All of my books start out when some little thing captures my imagination and the story starts to unfold. My Uncle Buddy told me a story about an old sailor and the seed of The Old Mermaid's Tale got planted. My Mother told me a story about a man's hunt for a missing angel and Each Angel Burns began to grow. On and on. Some of my best stories are family stories which I tell in Fry Bacon. Add Onions which is free for Kindle today through Monday.
Even if nobody wanted to read my stories, I'd still write them but I'm eternally grateful when people tell me they love one of my stories. They are my babies.
This blog post is part of the April 2012 A-to-Z Blogging Challenge. Thanks for visiting.