Why I Do What I Do by Reese Mobley

I began writing seriously (grin) in the third grade. We were assigned the task of writing a short story. I did mine then I wrote stories for half of the girls and all of the cute boys I like-liked. As far as I know, the teacher never found out about the massive cheating scandal. And the boys, well they never realized I like-liked them—they were just happy to have someone else do their work.

I was a Nancy Drew fan. To me there was nothing better than curling up on my bed and reading the adventures of Nancy and Ned and the perils they found themselves in. It was during my ND phase that I wrote a short story about a man who almost dies trying to get home to his family. It was full of tension, drama and lots of exclamation points!

My parents were so proud.

I pretty much traded my pen and paper for a spatula after I married and began raising a family. There was little time for writing with the diaper changing, cookie baking, and time spent hauling three kids to all their activities. I did, however, continue to read—just not romance. I read Sidney Sheldon, Mary Higgins Clark, Sandra Brown and Stephen King. Many years later, I picked up my first Harlequin out of a box in my mom’s garage. A paperback with a questionable cover and yellowing pages that reeked of smoke. It made me gag. Not from the smell but because it was awful. I thought I could do better.

I couldn’t. But then I tried again and it didn’t suck quite as bad. The third and fourth manuscripts I completed finaled in a few contests. One of them is sitting on an agent’s desk right now waiting for a thumbs up. Or not.

The road to publication has been harder and longer than I ever imagined. I’ve considered quitting more times than I can remember. But I don’t. Because I know my dream will never come true if I stop writing—probably the only sure thing in this business.

Hugs, Reese