I write the macabre. I write the fantastical. I write the future. I write horrible, suspenseful nightmares. I write star-crossed lovers, and I write happy-ever-afters. I write it all – except for comedy, unless you find my writing so poor that it makes you laugh.
The short of it:
Amber resides in rural Texas with her husband, Josh, and their son, Logan. When she’s not reading, writing, or watching cheesy reality TV, she’s either trying to make a film or tromping through nearby woods. She’s a introverted, confused Gemini with a new-found love for Moscato.
The long of it:
I was born and raised in a small town in Texas, the kind where everybody knows everybody and everybody else’s business. A safe, supportive community that I partially thrived in. Born the proud daughter of a proud, independent, and pretty rebellious Pipeliner and his gentle, loving wife, I spent a large portion of my years traveling across the United States, although I never made it east of the Mississippi or west of the Rockies. These early travels exposed me to small slivers of life, cultures that may even some day cease to exist (much to my fear and disappointment), in the deep bayous of Cajun Louisiana and on the fringes of the nation of the Navajo People. It was an enthralling existance, although lonely sometimes as we had to leave our family, including my brother, behind.
When it was decided that I needed more stability, a school system that I stayed in, my mother and I stayed behind while Dad sought work as close as he could to home. Fortunately for us, he found considerable work within Texas, the majority of it being around Houston, so we were able to see him every weekend. During this time, my parents made the decision to start their own business, which would go on to save us financially when my father fell ill to a rare disease.
The times that followed took considerable adjusting on our parts. Life became very, very precious, and our relationship with each other paramount to our survival. We didn’t travel, couldn’t, really, due to the illness and the upkeep of the business.
I had always written, but I was primarily a reader since I discovered I could read. Being tied down as we were frustrated the gypsy soul that had been cultivated in me, and I found myself writing even more, exploring the worlds I longed to see in books, and placing my characters within them.
I had always had a love-hate relationship with my small hometown. Most people that lived here were good, well-meaning, lovely people, but I always felt the bit of the outsider. Perhaps this was because I knew what experiences – and potential experiences – were beyond the confines of the city limits, and I grew to resent it a little. God bless us with some relatively stable health, some work to keep the business going, and so I departed for the University of Texas – Austin in 2004, where I graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Radio-TV-Film.
College was both exhilarating and an enormous disappointment. Regardless, I stepped out realizing that while I loved film, I loved writing more. Ever the control freak, film making is counterproductive to those tendencies, and when I realized that when I had to work with people (and also came to the realization that I could not afford to go out to Los Angeles), I found that I enjoyed writing screenplays more. By the time I graduated, I had married the love of my life and my family’s health had been turning for the worse. My parents needed help, the business needed help, and we, being newlyweds, needed a little stability too.
I found myself living back in the town I swore to leave behind – and thankful for it, even. My parents business thrived, health was slippery but manageable, and my husband completed his college degrees at a neighboring town. Life seemed to be okay, and it was. At this point, Dad was on dialysis, and my mother and I were his caregivers. We did home hemodialysis five days a week on the NxStage system, Dad had more energy than we’d seen him with in years, and we really thought we could breathe, really breathe, and hold the future with positivity instead of hesitation.
I became pregnant with our first child, and ended up delivering him three months early due to a stomach virus that led to dehydration.
Roughly two weeks after Logan was born, my father passed away.
This – to date – has been the darkest time of my life. Having a baby in the NICU and grieving for your father who you were extremely close to and cared for – it’s enough to drive anyone crazy.
I was crazy. I had postpartum depression, amplified. Thank God for help, and that I sought it out.
We were discharged from the NICU with a healthy, happy baby boy, Logan. Life took on a whole new meaning for us. We are still grieving, but we are with our family, and life is starting to feel worth it again.
A few weeks after my dad passed, I realized that even though he left us at a young age (61), he had once told me that he had done everything he sought to do in life. He’d had a good life.
I’m thankful for that – and that conversation. It made me realize that I can not honestly say the same.
Good life, sure. I’ve had a great life. I’ve hardly touched anything I’ve dreamed of doing.
Make films (independently), travel.
Write… and be read.
So here I am, embarking on my ‘bucket list’, determined to make a go at this writing thing, to swallow my fears, and let my works see the light of day. I hope you enjoy them when they come out, dear reader, and I thank you for joining me on this journey.
May the road rise up to meet you.
– Amber –