Please help me welcome author Rachel Firacek to the blog.
But, I have to give you the backstory first. I grew up very poor. We lived in a two bedroom trailer--there were four of us--and shared a lot with another trailer and a large old plantation house. So, not quite a trailer park, but it backed up to one. Our landlords were super nice people and I remember picking up pecans in their orchard for hours on end to earn .50 cents. My brother and I would walk to the corner store and buy one pop and one candy bar. We’d split it and be in heaven. I was seven at the time.
Yeah, I’d never let my kids walk down the street now. LOL. It was a different time. So anyways, as the years progressed, Dad’s job stabilized and his pay grew. We moved twice before my parents finally became home-owners in a fairly decent neighborhood--kind of. We still managed on just my father’s income, but not by much. There was never much money left after bills, so we lived on coupons and hand-me-downs. It was a sad life, just very different than the one I live now.
So, where am I going with this? Because of our limited means, we never ate out. Never. I was fifteen before I went to a McDonald’s for the first time. Seriously. It was 1993. I never went to the movies. Never went to the mall. Never did any of the things that the other kids my age did. I mostly stayed at home, helped my mom, listened to music and read.
Then a man danced into my life and changed all that. I’ll never forget the first time my husband took me out to eat. I sat there picking at my food, worrying that the entire room was watching me. He kept glancing at my plate. “Why aren’t you eating?”
I leaned forward. “Everyone can see me.”
He sat back in his chair. “So? We can see all of them, too.”
“I don’t feel so, well.” My stomach churned and bile rose in my throat. Anxiety doubled me over and I almost lost it right there in the middle of the restaurant.
My husband sighed, packed my plate up and got me out of there. We had a long talk that night about my phobias. And with a firm tone, he told me, “Rachel, if this is going to work, you have to get over this. I’m a social person. I won’t stay at home all the time and hide from life.”
And that was exactly what I was doing. Hiding from life. My shyness was taking my life and leaving me empty. Don’t hide from life. It finds you and then you’re not ready for it. I’m thankful that I’ve had some really special people help me get around myself.
Do you have a special person that helps you get through hard times? Share something about them with us!
Also, before I forget. Some of the other CMP authors are getting together for a mass giveaway. We’re pooling our blogs for today and one winner will win all four of our ebooks. So please leave a comment here and then slide over to Traci Bell’s Blog: http://tracibell.blogspot.com/ We’ll announce the winner’s on Wednesday. I’ll be sure to let Rebecca know who won!
Rachel’s writing career began at the impressionable age of twelve with a poem dedicated to the soldiers of Desert Storm. A dark macabre affair that earned her a publication in an anthology and many raised eyebrows from family and friends, she hid her poetry and artistic style for years…
Tucked away in the heart of Central Texas, with the loving support of her husband and three children, she dusted the cobwebs from her craft. Returning to those twisted regions of her mind, she creates dark urban fantasies and soul-searching paranormal romance.
To learn where love twists the soul and lights the shadows, visit Rachel at http://www.rachelfirasek.com/