Every new chapter follows another

This is not only true for books but also for life.

My love for writing did not start before my love for reading had reached a peak.I wasn’t born a booklover. My passion for reading was triggered by an early, accidental interest in becoming a librarian. Before that, I had only frequently touched books and only under threat of some kind of school assessment. You might ask why someone who hated even looking at books suddenly wanted to become a librarian. Well, let's step back to a frosty afternoon when my class, I was in 7^th grade, took a trip to the job centre. Those were called Arbeitsamt at that time in Germany. Nowadays they have a different name. Anyway, my teacher took us there, and a very nice lady gave a speech which I didn’t listen to because I was 13 years old and had so much bigger fish to fry. Afterwards, we were shown into a computer room. Please be aware this was in 1994, and computers did look slightly different than today. If you would put them next to your trusted laptop now, you would fat-shame them. Anyway, those big, fat computers and bigger and fatter monitors had a job finding program on them. It asked me to fill in various answers through a multiple-choice questionnaire. I cannot remember if I was serious when I filled it out, but I remember what the end result was.

LIBRARIAN

I remember coming home and telling my mum all about it. She gave me her typical stern look and said that a librarian had to read books (she knew my aversion very well). I took her comment so much to heart that I sat down on our couch and started reading at that instance.

My mother is a far, far, far worse bookworm than I am, and still today, she has a vast collection of books, mainly fiction. At that time, her favourite author was Marion Zimmer Bradley, and all her books were gracing my mother’s bookshelves. Reading my first novel was hard. I had to force myself to stay with it. But bit by bit, it got easier and more enjoyable.

Around the same time, I was visiting my paternal nan. A woman who had a special place in my heart (still does) and whom I looked up to. She gave me a book from Federica de Cesco. It was a miserable-looking thing, with the spine missing and the pages only held together by sticky tape.

That book, I still have.

That book, I have read more than a million times.

That book was the beginning of my love of the written word. A love that inspired me to read and eventually to write.

Many authors have inspired me since. Many authors have pushed me to do better, to be better. But it was Federica’s novel, The Red Silk Scarf, that broke the curse of me hating books and transformed me into a book hoover, who read and read and read.

Marion Zimmer Bradley books and her creation of the world of Darkover did their part and ignited a wish in me to create my own universe.

It took only 30-ish years for me to finally feel ready to write stories which I wanted to publish. Sharing my world with you.

I would be interested in your book-loving, book-reading, book-writing journey. Feel free to share it here or contact me directly.

Whatever you do, I hope your path along your journey is adventurous, fun and fulfilling.

Yours,

Diana