Hmm, of course, I know who I’m talking about, and those closest to me do, as well… but for those of you who just happen upon this Blog, perhaps I should lay the background for you a bit.
Okay, I’m classified, titled, labeled (however you want to view it) as disabled. This stems from a work-related injury. Once upon a time, I worked with the adult mentally retarded, as a State of Ohio employee. My title then was a Therapeutic Program Worker. Basically a fancy name for aide!
Briefly, one of the male residents attacked me, leaving me with permanent nerve damage to my neck, right arm/shoulder and back, as well as a fractured right wrist, bite wounds, scrapes, bruises and minor lacerations. That started my life with Chronic Pain, which I’ve lived with for 9 years now. I touch on it briefly, here.
As I had been published for some of my nonfiction work previously, and had no desire to simply sit around feeling sorry for myself, I launched myself into a writing correspondence course, concentrating on fiction. My chosen genre’s are horror and romance. I think they go hand in hand *grins*
Now, as far as my fiction is concerned, most who’ve read it tell me they like it, they’d buy a magazine for it, etc., etc., etc. But no magazines have purchased my stuff yet. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’ve had some interesting nibbles – but no buyers.
Back to who Decker is… before I was tossed to the invisible monster, I was a dog breeder and handler. I bred the Shetland Sheepdog – Shelties for short. My son was interested in showing an Afghan Hound. Decker is his – now retired – Afghan Hound.