Forgive me, for I have sinned.
It has been 38 years, 8 months, 30 days, 2 hours, and 46 minutes since my last confession.
addicted to books.
There, I said it. Phew!
Born at the beginning of the '80s to young adult parents, during the rise of the slasher film, I was destined to be a horror fanatic. My earliest memories are of me on my dad's knee watching cartoons with melted faces and occupying the chair next to him during one of his grotesque drawing sessions. I collected Garbage Pail Kids, watched Pee-wee's Playhouse, and made up stories with characters from Thundercats.
In 1988, I started 3rd grade in Miss Chu's class at Royal Oaks Elementary in Visalia, CA. [If you're reading this THANK YOU!] As a class, we read Bunnicula by James and Deborah Howe. Part of this lesson included making a paper mache Bunnicula and displaying it for the whole school to see. The pride I felt in our hard work being appreciated is one of my favorite memories of my childhood.
To cope with the emotional abuse I suffered at the hands of my father and stepmother, I began writing dark poetry. When prose didn't work, I turned to alcohol and self destructive behavior and when that didn't work anymore, I tried suicide. Thankfully, I didn't succeed. I fought back. I was no longer silent to the mental turmoil and decided that the best way to stick it to them, was to live.
And I did. I moved 1300 miles away. I had my first child. Then a set of twins. I was no longer the focus, but rather these three insanely perfect beings I gave life to, were center stage. However, it wasn't until my second failed relationship before I returned to my creative roots and began to write again.
I wrote my first novel. I was so proud of it. It had vampires and werewolves and violence [oh my!] and I honestly thought it was the best thing ever written and it would put Stephanie Meyer out of work.
Then I threw it away.
Guys, it was horrible. It was 200 pages of trash. I am not embarrassed by it, but I am certainly relieved I didn't try to publish it.
That is when I realized to be a better writer, I needed to read more books.
In Comes the Slayer
In September 2018, my youngest son attempted suicide via overdose of my prescription medication. I am a domestic abuse survivor, a rape survivor, a child molestation survivor, and I was not prepared with how watching my child not want to live would affect me. Once the immediate danger was over, I turned to books to help me cope that reality. I started with the second half of the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon. Those characters gave me hope, reminded me that horrible things can happen, and it does get better.
Going into 2019, I set a Goodreads goal for the first time. I wanted to read 1 book a week. I ended up completing 207 books last year. I read some great ones. I read some really bad ones. But one thing was certain, even when my stressors were eliminated and life returned to somewhat of a norm, I couldn't stop thinking about reading. I went everywhere with a book. I organized monthly reading lists. When I wasn't reading in my free time, I felt guilty, like I was cheating on the books.
But I love it! I love reading. I love books. I love audiobooks with amazing narrators and the ability to read in the dark with my Kindle. I love going to book stores and thrift shops and smelling used books. Hey, don't judge me.
The Books of Horror group on Facebook was the perfect accessory to my book slaying. There is a community of readers and authors that are some of the best people in the Internet world. As a member for a few years, I have never felt intimidated to ask newbie questions or seek guidance. I was able to get a full Horror Fiction 101 education. I read something other than an Anne Rice or Stephen King bestseller.
At the start of the new year, I became a prodigious reader focused on diversity of both authors and genres. In my favorite genres, fantasy and horror, the vast majority of authors I read were cis white men. I wanted to change that.
I entered the bookstagram-verse as The Book Slayer in January 2020. Soon to follow were Twitter and Litsy, then NetGalley and Book Siren for DRCs.
And still, I felt something was missing...
On a dark and stormy night, Confessions of a Book Slayer was born. No seriously, it is 1:30 am and there is a legit thunderstorm going on.
I have three goals I plan to accomplish with this blog.
- use my platform to boost BIPOC, LGBT+, and cis female authors
- support Indie writers and small press publishers by offering honest reviews
- amplify marginalized voices, especially in the literary world, and become a better ally
I want to create a welcoming, informative, creative space for all bookdragons to discuss all things bookish. I'd love for you to become one of them!