I fell under the spell of books when I was growing up and working in my grandparents’ bookstore: Gingerbread Square Books in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware—a small coastal town that gets crowded with tourists in the summer months. When I began reading books, I was transported to another place, the world the book conjured for me. For me, it was magical.
Now in my 40s, I still feel this way. The ability of an author to pull you into his or her story is truly magical. When I thought of what kind of jobs I could possibly be interested in when I eventually became an adult, I wanted to be one of those people who was able to make that magic happen for readers. And I still do.
Along the way, I’ve found the act of creating is also a kind of magic. When I write, I often fall into the story, and it’s a rush that I’ve come to seek out, one that I’ve become addicted to. That rush doesn’t happen every single time I write, and those days are ones to be pushed through. Frustration is also a part of the process, which makes me value the days when writing clicks well.
I live in Maryland with my wondrously supportive wife, Sue, and our two teenaged daughters: Tess and Molly. It’s been a joy to watch them fall in love with the magic of books, from when I read to them, to consuming a great deal of books on their own.
I’m on Twitter, @dwilliamswriter, so stop by and say hi if you also do the Twitter thing.