Finding My Voice
For as long as I can remember I have loved books. As a youngster, my dad would take us three children to the library on Saturday mornings and wait patiently while we chose books according to our ages and interest. My sister, the oldest, picked out teen appropriate stories while our brother looked for science related reading. As the youngest and still in early elementary years, I would lose myself in the young persons’ room where a myriad of books and tables just my size were plentiful. I liked the picture books because they had so many colorful images, so I usually chose from those. I was allowed to check out three books and I carefully inspected as many as I could before choosing my favorites.
We lined up to have our books stamped with a return date and we proudly presented our choices. Dad had to help me with mine as I was too short to reach the counter. I watched with interest as the librarian processed the books with practiced precision. She reminded of us of our return date two weeks hence, but I wasn’t concerned with that at all because I knew we would be back the next Saturday. Once the checkout process was completed, we headed home. I sat in the back seat and opened the first book. I read it quickly and went on to the next, and the next. By the time we reached home, I had already read all three of my books! I confess to being disappointed that my books didn’t last longer. I can remember the conflict of wanting the colorful picture book images but also the satisfaction of having a book last longer. I talked with Dad about it and he decided I was ready for chapter books. He assured me of his assistance if I had trouble reading anything.
The next week we arrived at the library and returned our books. Dad then asked about chapter books for me and was directed to the area where they were located. The room wasn’t nearly as colorful and there were fewer tables, but I soon discovered wonderful new books to read that would last longer than the car ride home. True to his word, Dad helped with the “big” words and soon I was reading well above my grade at school. This was the beginning of a lifelong friendship with books.
As I got a little older, I discovered Nancy Drew mysteries. We didn’t have money to purchase them, but I borrowed from friends and our sixth-grade teacher had the full set in our classroom library! I was in heaven! Each day I took out a new volume and read it avidly at home that night. This was an era of only three television channels so it was easy to bypass and spend my evening with my nose in a book. Before long, I had read the entire Nancy Drew series and went on to Hardy Boys and other light mysteries.
Miss Marple and Hercule Poirot caught my attention a few years later and I decided mysteries seemed to be my preference. I discovered David Baldacci, John Grisham, P.D. James, and Anne Perry as an adult. I couldn’t get enough of this genre. I dreamed of writing such a book someday but the demands of a full-time job, a husband, and two active sons pushed that thought far into the future. I continued to read, however, and gradually absorbed what it takes to become an author. I learned techniques of character development and scene description as I read from the best. Without realizing it, I was sowing the seeds for my own writing career.
Time moved on and my children grew and left us for their adult pursuits. I began to formulate stories in my mind but doubted I could ever write an entire book. I listened to my mother’s stories of her childhood with interest and knew some of them could be the impetus for a good mystery. One story in particular came back to me over and over again. Mother told me of a poor relation who, in the midst of the Great Depression of the 1920’s, found herself nearly destitute when her husband was arrested and sent to prison for producing moonshine and bootlegging. He had lost his job due to the dreadful economy and had turned to the production and selling of whiskey to feed his family. At that time the family consisted of him, his wife, and two very young girls. It wasn’t long after he was imprisoned that the wife and girls were nearly starved. So, the wife sought work. The only job she found was as an assistant to a local doctor. She was to check in patients, assist the doctor with the minor procedures he performed in the office, clean everything at the end of the day, and keep the books. It was demanding work but it kept food on the table and clothes on the growing girls. Before long, an added duty was added to the list. The doctor demanded intimate relations as part of the deal. If she refused, she would be fired. The doctor knew there were other near-starving women who would be willing to accept all of his demands.
Without a choice, the young woman reluctantly agreed to the doctor’s terms, and not surprisingly, she became pregnant with his child. She worried what her husband would think and do when he came home after serving his two-year sentence. Would he leave her?
Shortly before his release, the young wife wrote a letter to her husband informing him of the circumstances and the existence of a third little girl in the household. She waited for a reply but none came. When the husband was released from prison and arrived home, he embraced his wife, looked around at the three little faces looking back at him and merely said, “Well, it looks like we have a new little daughter to love,” and that was that.
I was so moved by the story I was determined to write about it. For a few years, I tossed it around my head and envisioned it as a novel. Little did I know that this story would be the nugget and the impetus to write my first mystery. I retired six years ago and decided it was time to put my dreams into action. I sat down with my laptop and began writing. I was surprised how the story I had been told years earlier morphed and grew into a full-length mystery novel full of intrigue, danger, and suspense. SEARCH FOR MURDER was born.
Before I got too far into the process I wanted to know if my writing was worthy of public consumption so I enlisted the aid of a good friend who happened to be an English professor at a local university. She was very encouraging and told me not to hide my talent any longer so I finished the novel and gave the manuscript to her for editing, a few chapters at a time. her only frustration was my love of commas! She said I must have a bucket of them that I throw at will. I’m doing better but commas remain a bit elusive to me. Software has improved the situation, but I still don’t meet the comma standards for my faithful friend and editor.
Encouraged by support from early readers of my first novel, I embarked on a second one, THIRST FOR MURDER, and then a third, A FIERY MURDER. These three comprise a trilogy. A fourth mystery/thriller, A TRAIL OF DESTRUCITON, broke away from the trilogy in a new direction and stands alone. My fifth and most current novel, THE CONFESSION, has more twists and turns than a country road and everyone says it is my best so far. Along the way, I remembered with nostalgia how my dad would tell me stories about bears. I came to love the furry creatures and, in turn, told bear stories to my two sons. Inspired by this tradition, I created two stories about a courageous bear cub named Robbie for my grandchildren. ROBBIE LEARNS TO READ encourages young ones to read and there are comprehension questions in the back of the book. ROBBIE MAKES A FRIEND, the second bear book, features a little girl in a wheelchair who comes to the school where Robbie attends with human children. Robbie is unsure about speaking to the little girl because she and her wheelchair are “different”. He would prefer to play baseball with the boys at recess. The wise teacher, however, devises a way to break the ice and Robbie leads the way. As a former physical therapist, this one is especially near and dear to my heart.
I have created a website, debraison.com so readers can keep up with my writing and be the first to hear about my latest book. I never dreamed I would get this far with my writing, but I’m so very glad I took the first step and opened my laptop. It is my passion and I would write even if nobody bought my books. Through my writing, I have found my voice and I encourage anyone with the urge to write to open their laptop and find theirs.
About the Creator
Debra Ison
After retiring from a career in physical therapy, I began my writing career and have written seven books. In my spare time I enjoy needlework and flower gardening. I live in Central Kentucky with my husband and faithful beagle, Bailey.
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