At the tender and precocious age of nine, my 4th grade teacher told my mother that I was destined to be a great writer. Born and raised in the melting pot of the San Fernando Valley in Los Angeles County, California I was surrounded by a superfluity of eclectic characters. I didn't need to travel far for inspiration. A hopeless romantic and avid dreamer, the worlds of my imagination were boundless to me. When things got rough I always had a creative outlet whether it be through a story or poem, song or dance. As a single mother with limited funds, my mom was still able to bestow upon me the greatest gift of all; her unrelenting support to any and all of my creative expressions.
Through the years, as is the case with most of us, the responsibilities of life took over and real life set in. The busy hodgepodge of motherhood may not seem like a conducive lifestyle for a writing career but beyond the messes, the schoolwork and the scraped knees I’ve found a way to make it work. With the seemingly small victory of each captivating bedtime story told, the personal fulfillment of each poem penned and every screenplay carefully scripted to make its mark upon the world, my passion for storytelling intensifies. Does that make me a great writer? I think Mrs. Shiraki would be proud.