A few weeks back, I had the pleasure of speaking at the Christy Award gala in Nashville, Tennessee. I thought I’d share a portion of my talk with you here at Inspired by Life and Fiction. It’s my hope that my fellow booklovers will find something to relate to in my memories and that my story will nudge you to remember your story! -Becky
Because I’m a romance novelist, I thought I’d begin by telling you a love story. A love story between me…. and books. Like many couples, I was introduced to books through mutual friends. In this case, my mom and dad.
As you can see from my face in this first picture, it wasn’t necessarily love at first sight. Possibly, because whatever he’s reading to me looks really boring. [I used strike-through on that, because I now suspect this may have been a book of Bible stories.]
My interest in books grew gradually over time. I couldn’t read at this age. But I was the oldest and bossy enough to make my younger sister listen while I pretended to read to her.
Before I entered Kindergarten, my mom began sitting me beside her on our patterned, purple and gold living room sofa (it was the 70’s) in our sunny southern California living room. There, she introduced me to chapter books, most notably Laura Ingalls Wilder books. My mind started to imagine the word pictures she was painting. I was eager, every time, to hear what happened next to Ma, Pa, Mary, Laura, Carrie and the others. And sad every time, when the day’s reading ended. It was at that point that my interest in books deepened into something deeper. Attraction.
I learned to read early and easily, a blessing since math and I have always had an adversarial relationship. I started checking books out from the library and reading them to myself. Among them, Judy Blume books.
A few years later, I advanced to Nancy Drew books. After several of those, I realized I was more interested in Nancy’s relationship with Ned Nickerson than in the mystery she was solving.
It was then, around sixth grade, that I discovered 1980s YA romances. (Represented in the collage above by the ice-skating cover and Sweet Valley High.) For me, these stories were a wondrous discovery! I enjoyed the focus these books had on family and friend relationships. But most of all, I adored the thrill and the tension of falling in love.
It was right around this point, when I found the type of book that suited me best, that I truly began to fall in love with books.
From there, I quickly graduated to full length novels written for adults. In the shot above, I’m traveling in Japan with a really ill-advised haircut. You’ll notice that not only am I holding my book, but while posing for this photo, I’m keeping my finger in my place.
In high school, books and I began dating seriously. I’d stay up late with books. I’d read books in the back seat of the family car. I vividly remember sneaking time with a book in the stairwell of our church during living a Christmas tree rehearsal.
The above photo is from spring break during my college years. Instead of partying, I was reading.
Here I am as a newlywed, still with a book attached to my hand.
It was around this time that it first occurred to me that I might be able to write a book of my own. I was young, ignorant about the craft of writing, hopeful, naive, able to eat gluten. I imagined that my romantic history with books qualified me to write books and so I did what all the best romantic couples do. I made a commitment to books. I vowed before witnesses that I, myself, would write one.
A honeymoon phase followed. I joyfully wrote an historical romance set in Norway that was one hundred and forty thousand words long. I made every rookie mistake possible and — no surprise — no one wanted to publish my manuscript.
Three more manuscripts and four years of unmitigated rejections followed. But I loved writing and I was determined to make my relationship work, so I kept churning out stories.
And then, one glorious day, my phone rang. An editor with one of the big New York city houses introduced herself, told me her name, and said that she wanted to publish my book.
These are the bouquets friends and family sent me to celebrate my book deal. As you can tell from my expression, I was ecstatic. My relationship with books was finally being recognized!
This photo was snapped a year later at my first book signing. If there was a thought bubble pointing to my head in this picture it would be filled with: Books and I are destined for greatness! I can see how it’s going to go! I have so many exciting things ahead of me: a long career, bestseller status, fame, fantastic covers, fawning editors, glowing reviews until death do writing and I finally part.
It didn’t go that way.
Whatever you call the authors who do worse that midlist (lowlist? bottom of the list?)… that’s what I was. I had a handful of fans. Embarrassing covers. An editor who left the company and orphaned me. My publisher rejected my proposal for more books.
Disillusionment, disappointment, and burn-out swamped me.
My love for writing tarnished and it seemed that its love for me had tarnished, too. Books, the thing I’d been enthralled with since Laura Ingalls Wilder had, for the first time, let me down.
For the next seven years, writing and I separated. I kept in touch with books only distantly. [Every good romance needs a black moment, right?]
I mourned the fate of my relationship with books, but those seven years were wonderful in other ways. I had three kids. And even though my romance with books had gone south, it was now my turn to sit my children beside me and read books to them aloud.
Then one day, unexpectedly, the Lord began to breathe new life and warmth into the cold, bitter state of my heart toward writing. I started to hear Him calling me back to it, very clearly. And as soon as I heard His voice, for the first time in many years, I wanted to write again.
So I came back to it, rusty and battered. This time, the commitment to write a manuscript was not naive and starry-eyed. By now my relationship with books could no longer be classified as young love. By now, our relationship was long-standing and weathered.
It’s endured more weathering in the years between then and now.
I’ve experienced the beauty of a second chance. Fresh hope. Fresh disappointment. I’ve written with preschoolers under my feet. And I’ve written in quiet. Some readers have encouraged me in ways I can never repay, other have criticized. I’ve walked paths that are green with inspiration and walked deserts devoid of inspiration. I’ve written manuscripts that came together obediently for me. And I’ve written manuscripts that were so hard that they tempted me to file for divorce from writing.
I’ve encountered people who scoff at the romance genre, not understanding that the currency of romance writers is emotion and emotion is one of the very hardest things to achieve in fiction. I’m met other people who’ve understood the appeal of this genre so well that in them I’ve found a kindred spirit.
Ultimately, what’s kept this romance of mine going so far is the stuff of any time-tested romance. Not an easy happily ever after. But rather consistent work. Determination. Grit. Effort. Loyalty. And most of all, full reliance on God.
My romance with books isn’t over and neither is yours.
So, readers! I’d love to hear. Did your romance with books share any similarities with mine?
Becky Wade
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My experience was similar to yours. I began with Mom reading book after book to me. Then I began to “read” my own books––books I’d memorized from the many repetitions. I graduated to Laura Ingalls Wilder and then on to Trixie Belden and Nancy Drew. I gravitated to animal books such as the Black Stallion series by Walter Farley. I think I read every book with a horse or dog in it my school and local library owned. Now, I read many genres, but fantasy, romance and historical romance are my favs.
I’ve also been called to write and romance seems to find its way into everything along with a bit of suspense. I’m writing a contemporary fantasy set mainly in Scotland at the moment, but of course, there’s a romance element along with all the folklore, faeries, elves and kelpies. I love writing and pray that I will see a book I’ve written on the shelves of those libraries I used to haunt as a teen.
Thanks for the inspiration and the encouragement to keep at it!
Rebecca! I so enjoyed reading about your history with books. It’s wonderful to know that he have some overlap with Laura Ingalls Wilder and Nancy Drew. I, too, read the Black Stallion. Thanks for reminding me of that one!
May God richly bless your writing journey. 🙂
So many similarities, Becky. I’ve loved books my entire life, VERY math-challenged, I’m the oldest of five and loved reading to my siblings. Unlike you, I didn’t start writing until after our kids were older (though we did have an “oops” baby who was three at the time my career began). I was 40 when my first book was published and thought I was ancient. Thought I’d be lucky if I wrote another book or two before I died. Thirty-some novels later… 🙂 Just loved reading your story and especially the accompanying illustrations!
Thirty-one novels later!! Woo hoo! What an accomplishment.
The inspiration to write finds us each at different times. I love that God’s call never comes “too late”. 🙂
Wonderful story, Becky. Thanks for sharing.
How fascinating to read about and see photographs of your romance with writing! While I have never aspired to become a writer, I’m an avid reader. My mother took us children to the library regularly, and we read abundantly. As we each became adults, we continued to enjoy reading. One of my sisters actually became a school librarian, while I simply volunteer in my local library.
I think it’s wonderful that your sister became a school librarian and you’re a library volunteer! This shows, so clearly, the impact your mother had on your lives through all those childhood visits to the library.
Libraries have fostered a love of reading in so many of us!
I loved reading your story! Mine is similar – too many text books to read during college, then getting married and beginning a new life with my husband. But reading has always been a big part of my life, too. The last few years I’ve kept a log and generally read 50 – 75 books per year – not a lot like some, but it’s a good number for me. Thanks for sharing!
I’m thoroughly impressed with 50-75 books a year. I’d love to read that many. 🙂 Way to go, Kathy!
Such a fabulous post. So glad I get to share the journey with you, friend.
Ditto, Dani!
I loved reading this post! Our love for books began very much the same way. My dad was still in college when I was born and spent tons of time studying. There are many pictures of me as a toddler sitting in the floor with a pile of books pretending to read while he sat nearby surrounded by textbooks. It was the ’70s and he had the same hairstyle and mustache that your dad did. Thoughts of my dad and me came to mind immediately when I saw your photo! My mom has always been an avid reader, too, so she read stories to me all the time. We did not have a TV so books were our entertainment. I am so grateful for that! I’ve always loved to read and my reading followed pretty much the same path as yours. I’ve never tried writing, though, and don’t see myself ever attempting it. I am perfectly content to devour the stories all of you talented authors put out there for me to enjoy. Thank you for that!!
Christy, my dad is STILL rocking the mustache! 🙂
Great post! I enjoyed hearing about your writing journey.
My love affair with books is very similar to yours. It started with my mom reading to me, and then moved on to me discovering The Babysitters Club, Little House on the Prairie, Love Comes Softly, and Betsy-Tacy (by Maud Hart Lovelace—my favorite). Eventually, I, too, decided to write my own stories. It is very much like a marriage, filled with commitment, dedication, and hard work. But, it’s so worth the time invested and the lessons learned. ❤️
It truly is worth the time invested and lessons learned. The Lord has frequently let me know that He’s much less interested in the sales numbers for any one of my books than He is in the work He does on my heart and soul through the WRITING of the book.
One of my early “book crushes” was the Sweet Valley Twins series. We lived overseas at the time, so my dad would let me order them as they were released. It was like Christmas every day I received a book. My love of reading grew and grew, and it also pushed me into writing stories of my own…all through elementary, middle, and high school! I find them every now and then, and they always had an element of romance and adventure. 🙂 I also think my dedication to journaling about my real crushes helped fuel my romance writer self! Thank you for sharing your journey. I agree, the currency of romance is emotion! Perfect explanation! 🙂
Angie, it’s so much fun to hear about your progression from Sweet Valley High to romance writer. I plowed through at least 25 or more Sweet Valley high books. But definitely didn’t make it all the way through to #181. 🙂
Loved taking the literary journey with you, Becky. It’s a wonderful thing to love to read and also to read your books : ) Looking forward to many more stories from you.
I often think I came out of the womb reading! Truthfully, I have no memory of a time before I could read on my own. My mom says I was reading by the time I was 3, and Reading books independently by age 4. Looking back, I think the first romance that I read was probably Laura & Almanzo in Little House on the Prairie, soon followed by Anne and Gilbert in Anne of Green Gables. I too read my fair share of 1990s YA romances, melodramatic book fair fodder, Nancy Drew, and Harlequin romances…and then a friend pressed “A Knight In Shining Armor” In my hands, and the rest is history. Until my dad died, that is. For almost 3 years after he passed, I just couldn’t read. At all. And then my connections with the #Hearties led me to discovering Christian romance as a genre (who knew?), and God said “It’s cool with me,” and here we are. I don’t read exclusively Christian romance, but it is a pretty substantial percent of the ~50 books a year that I read, and I’m so glad I found my way back to my first love…the printed word.
I’m so glad that you found your way back to the printed word, too, Teri. Like you, it took me quite awhile to find my way to Christian fiction. The moment I started writing my first contemporary inspirational romance, I realized, “THIS IS IT! I’ve finally found my genre.” 😉
I enjoyed your story very much!I thank God for good clean Christian Fiction Authors! There were times I would read Grace Livingston Hill books over and over because I couldn’t find enough clean books to keep me busy. I had no idea there were so many Christians authors at the time. I have loved reading ever since I could read the Dick and Jane books. I have about 4000 books in my home. Not counting recipe books and children books from when my kids were young. I have over 10,000 ebooks on my various devices and different reading apps. God Bless All of The Christian Authors!
God bless you, Brenda! 4,000 books…. Wow. What a collection!
Loved this! Thanks for sharing part of your speech with us. I grew up very similarly and always had a book in my hand. I did have a break for a while when my kids were young, but now take a book with me in my purse everywhere. You never know when you’ll have down time to read!
I loved the pictures of books in the hand all the time – my philosophy exactly! My walls are lined with bookshelves filled with books of many types (including all of yours). I’ve even tried my hand at a novel but never attempted the publishing stage. I teach Church History to elementary and high school kids in Australia and a lot of my reading and writing is around my field – someday I would love to publish my Church History books for kids (currently only published on the photocopier at school!) Thanks for sharing your story!