That’s ok…blame it on Mom

Today, the lovely and talented Danielle Shipley, author of many tales, is visiting my blog and is going to talk to you about the most influential person who helped her stay true herself, her dreams and her writing. Danielle, we’re all ears (and eyes).

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We can blame a good percentage of what I’ve become on my mother.

It was she who first got me hooked on books by reading aloud and letting me loose in the library. She who taught me how to arrange letters into words, and set me up with computer programs (and piano lessons) that trained my fingers to type like the wind. She who was always cool with me spending my free time on fictional character development and stories without a point. She who exposed me to the timelessness of fairytales, the allure of mystery, the thrill of heroic adventure, and the zany humor of my early mentors, Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck.

And she didn’t limit my artistic freedom to my childhood. When I gradually came to realize that, more than a hobby only, authorship was what I wanted to do with my rest of my life, she never once told me to wake up, leave my imaginary friends behind, and go be a normal adult. Quite the contrary! She picked up books from the library about querying literary agents for me. She sat with me when I moped after yet another rejection came in, and squealed with me when the inbox actually contained good news. She brings me a cup of tasty grapes when I’m typing up a guest post about all the stuff she does for me. (Seriously. She just now walked in here and handed me a snack.) She lets me rant to her about everything I find irritating in the world of writing or the world in general, helps me brainstorm when I’m all tangled up in plot ideas, stays up hours past her bedtime to scrounge for votes when I’ve entered a contest to turn my fairytale tailor into a pony doll… I’ve little doubt I owe that victory to her.

She’s more than just a momma. She’s an intern in my self-publishing house and half of its marketing team. She’s one of my most enthusiastic cheerleaders, which is saying a lot, considering the squad also includes my ALL CAPS-happy writing besties and Will Scarlet. (If you’ve met the man, ‘nough said.) She’s a solid line of defense between me and accidental starvation. Once I finally stopped being shy and let her read what I wrote, she became a fan of my writing. Naturally, she was a fan of the writer all along.

I’m not much of a rebel. If my mom had voted “nay” against the pursuit of my authorial dream, I may well have set that dream aside and gone searching for a new one, writing relegated to the realm of “hobby only” once again. Happily for me (and, I would suggest, for all of you), Mrs. Shipley’s got my back. I don’t expect you to love her for it quite as much as I do, but you can give it a go.

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Ahh, to have such a person on our side is truly a blessing. Thank you for stopping by, Danielle. It was an extreme pleasure.

Want to know more about Danielle? Keep reading.

Danielle E. Shipley’s first novelettes told the everyday misadventures of wacky kids like herself. …Or so she thought. Unbeknownst to them all, half of her characters were actually closeted elves, dwarves, fairies, or some combination thereof. When it all came to light, Danielle did the sensible thing: Packed up and moved to Fantasy Land, where daily rent is the low, low price of her heart, soul, blood, sweat, tears, firstborn child, sanity, and words; lots of them. She’s also been known to spend short bursts of time in the real-life Chicago area with the parents who home schooled her and the two little sisters who keep her humble. When she’s not living the highs and lows of writing young adult novels, she’s probably blogging about it at www.EverOnWord.wordpress.com.