I’ve been writing for more than a decade now but my oldest, sixteen-year-old son has never shown any interest in what I write.

“They’re just too chickish for me,” he says.

Well…you can’t please everyone and my main focus group is girls, so it’s hard to be offended by the comment. My thirteen-year-old daughter on the other hand inhales my novels the moment she sees a copy in our home. She goes on and on, telling her brothers and everyone else how amazing they are. Her excitement is a major motivation to keep writing, but to my shock I caught my oldest son reading my latest novel, Stuffed Souls, last week. He made eye contact with me over the open book in his hands but said nothing, so I kept walking. You don’t want to jinx these things. On Friday my son stuck his head into my bathroom where I was getting ready for the day.

“You’re really twisted, Mom.”

“Oh really?” I kept right on applying my mascara. “And why’s that?”

“Your Stuffed Souls, I can’t believe you made that up. It was really good, but crazy. Are your other novels like this?”

“Hmm…They’re such different plots it’s hard to compare them, but I don’t write snooze-fests. I like fast moving stories with unpredictable plots so that’s how I try to always write. I guess you’ll finally have to pick up the first book of the Rory’s Choice series and find out for yourself.” Dare I hope he’ll become a fan too? I don’t know those “chickish” parts might be too much for him. 😉