Once upon a time, teachers had pegged me as a non-reader. I was in a special class for kids with “learning disabilities”, I had a special desk next to the teacher’s desk. To say the least, I hated school. I had very few friends. I had a terrible family life. I was, let’s call it like it was, set up to not succeed. Abuse was a common place: home and school alike. To be perfectly honest, I’m surprised that I didn’t off myself by my senior year. Yes, I tried a few times. Clearly, my attempts were unsuccessful.
I like reading while I was in the single digits. Walter Farley and his horses were always a fun escape. Books were something I loved. But just not the “required reading”. I have clear memories of the school librarian calling me a liar because I couldn’t remember a specific detail on one of our required readings. So much for FFux county being best in the country. Nope. LD Kid here was just meant to be a failure. <sigh>
What kept me going?
Fiction.
Jonathan Livingston Seagull fiction. Anne Rice fiction. Stephen King fiction.
Everything but this whole, crappy life, fiction. Even Silence of the Lambs friction was a welcome escape from this.
I realized that I loved reading when a friend of mine handed me her library copy of “Cry to Heaven”. I finished, turned the first page and Angie said, “I’m not getting that back.” It well and truly spoke to me. I was Anne Rice’s fan forever, from that point on. This was August 1994. It was a turning point in my life. No lie.
Not many authors have reached out from the pages and grabbed me by the shirt collars (metaphorically). Clive Barker took a good hundred pages before I couldn’t put one of his books down. King? Different story for a different time.
But this guy? This Beauliue guy? He had me at the first paragraph. Never heard of him. I had a copy of a complication left behind by my adult-child ex. I thought I needed inspiration for science fiction-something, so I took it to work. I read the stories, word for word because I work in a scif. I had nothing else. Until this. Chasing Humanity. First paragraph and I was sold. His prose. His voice. Holy crap! Incredible! I’m half way through “With Blood Upon the Sand”. Seriously, find this. Read it. Bradley P Beaulieu. Find him. Follow him. It’s worth it.
That’s all I’ve got for now.
Be well, be wonderful!
~Jules
Julie M Anderson 