B. C. Bull

As a kid I would hold my mom hostage as she applied her makeup and did her hair (that would give me a good hour or so). I would sit on the tub or closed toilet, feet dangling, holding a bunch of blank, folded up papers that I made into a “book”. I would “read” the scary stories I had concocted in my head. Usually she or others would shake their heads and roll their eyes, worried about what I might do with my life with this obsession of all things scary…

My television viewing was not monitored, nor was I kept away from horror movies for as long as I can recall (and don’t ask how far back my memory goes because that is scary in itself).

I loved the mix of horror yet desire to keep watching to see what happened next, and that feeling stayed with me. It encouraged me to write, dream, and create even when life got tough. Through extreme bullying and the toughest things a kid can fear – even fear itself – this genre, and especially watching these movies and writing my own stories kept me grounded. It kept me strong and engaged with the world somehow even when alone. My creativity through imaginary friends and worlds both light and dark never left, and brought joy on the gloomiest days and danced even faster through the magical ones.

What else would I do with all of that BUT write?!

I completed a formal education and spent over half a century working and being educated. Now it is time to follow through on the one constant thing in my life to date besides the self-love that I have learned. My writing, and the joy it has always brought me. I want to share these stories I have.

Thanks for reading.