Just Me and James Dean…by Cheryl Bradshaw
When I was a little girl I used to make up stories at
bedtime for my younger sister, Michelle.
The most vivid centered on a boy and a
girl who received a piece of gum for Halloween in their trick-or-treat bag, and
when they chewed it, they were transported to a magical land where they were
granted unlimited wishes. Even at such a
young age, the process of concocting stories was effortless. My mind revolved like the reel of a movie
spinning inside my head.
I spent many hours daydreaming as a child. Back then everything was as beautiful and
white as a freshly painted fence. I
fantasized about the day I would get married, the children I would have, the
house I would own, and the life I would live when I was all grown up.
When I was a teenager,
my mind still swirled with girlish hopes and dreams. I remember lying on my bed in my room staring
at a poster on my wall of James Dean. He
was hunkered down on the seat of a motorcycle, and Marilyn Monroe was perched
behind him with her arms wrapped around his waist, and her head resting on his
shoulder. I wanted to jump into the
poster like the girl in A-Ha’s Take on Me
video and ride off into life’s highway, just me and James. Together, forever.
When I became an adult and moved out on my own to attend
college at the tender age of eighteen, I thought I had my whole world figured
out. I’d developed a slight obsession
with Agatha Christie and knew mysteries and thrillers were the perfect genre
for me as a writer. All kinds of ideas
flowed for the first novel, and I thought I was on my way. There was just one problem: I never started
writing.
Why?
I wasn’t prepared for the events that were about to take
place in my life or how they would affect my journey. Life didn’t turn out to be the dream I
thought it would be, and I struggled—a lot, and faced challenges and trials
that at times seemed more than I could bear.
My relationships didn’t always work out, and all the babies I hoped to
have didn’t come like I’d planned. There were times when I felt like my life was
like a shattered mirror, and I was on my hands and knees desperately searching
for all the pieces of myself so I could glue them back together and feel whole
again. During those times I wondered how
many other women out there in the world felt the same exact way.
Time went on and I struggled, but eventually I picked myself
back up and I healed. With a new lease
on life and a positive attitude about what I’d overcome, I thought about
writing again. In 2009 I wrote Black Diamond Death, the first novel in
my Sloane Monroe series. Sinnerman followed six months later and
now I’m hard at work on the third, I Have
a Secret.
As I sit here and write this, I’m shocked that I am being so
candid. Normally, I safeguard my
feelings. To say I’m a private person is
an understatement, but I feel compelled to get this out. My message in all of this is to never lose
sight of your hopes and dreams. Never
forget who you are, where you came from, and what you are capable of
accomplishing in your life. And if you
have a passion, foster it with everything you have inside you. Let it shine.
Let it breathe. Let it be.
When I pondered about the dedication I would use for Sinnerman, my direction was clear and I
wrote the following:
This book is
dedicated to anyone who’s ever had a dream. We have but one life, and one
opportunity to live it. Make it last,
make it count, and make it the best it can be.
Live your dreams, I know I am.
Today, I’m no longer waiting for James Dean to ride up on
his shiny black motorcycle. I’ve fallen
for a different kind of boy now, one who dreams of wide open spaces and a
simple life. One who wants to be a
cowboy when he grows up. Now the poster
I see in my visions is one of man hoisting me up on the back of his trusty
steed while we ride away together into the Wyoming sunset.
If you asked me ten years ago if this was the life I thought
I wanted, my answer might have been no, but if you asked me today I would say
I’m right where I’m supposed to be. My
life isn’t perfect, the challenges are still there, and I still have a lot to
learn about myself. But no matter what
the future holds for me, I know one thing for sure: I’ll never stop writing.
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This is one story from Indie Chicks: 25 Women 25 Personal Stories available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. To read all of the stories, buy your copy today.
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This is one story from Indie Chicks: 25 Women 25 Personal Stories available on Amazon and Barnes & Noble. To read all of the stories, buy your copy today.
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Cheryl’s book’s on Amazon:
To learn more about Cheryl, visit her
here:
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