It’s been an insidious process akin to weight gain—‘go on Deanie, reach for that third donut, it won’t end up on the backs of your thighs disguised as a loose web of cellulite,’—yes, doughnuts talk to me and no, being the Doughnut Whisperer isn’t what got me into writing although, I expect my writing to keep me in donuts—cake donuts not those fried posers.

However, I digress.

With the debut of my novel Charming the Chieftain, a recent interview made me realize I could very well attribute my rich fantasy life to Worst-Case-Scenario-Suzie, otherwise known as, Mumsie. W-C-S-S is a moniker I bestowed upon my mother years ago when in my teens. Why? Well, for the simple reason that no matter where I was going, who I was going with, and whatever it was I had planned, Mumsie always predicted catastrophic events. An off the cuff warning to turn off the radio while out joy-riding—joy-riding; something only teenagers do, as any person over the age of twenty-four, who drives a daily work route that should take no more than twenty minutes, but multiplied with every other driver on the planet going in the same direction, morphs into a two hour trial of endurance, will easily attest too—should have been innocuous enough, but, Mumsie always took it one fantastical step further. So, in W-C-S-S’s calamitous world if I listened to music while driving, I would become unwittingly distracted, blow through an elementary school zone, jump the curb, and flatten a third-grader innocently waiting in line for the bus. Think I’m joking? Read on MacDuff…

“Wear a hat, it’s snowing. Fine, but don’t expect me to drop everything when you’re half-dead in a hospital bed because the cold you’ll inevitably catch has turned into double pneumonia. Going hatless is the number one killer of teenagers between the ages of 15 and 18 during the winter months.” W-C-S-S

“Soap the tap if you plan to use the ladies room at the mall. Fine, if you don’t mind germs then that’s your choice, but don’t expect me to feed you when your hands have fallen off because you caught some flesh-eating disease that also gnawed through your wrist bones. Not soaping the taps before you wash your hands is the number one reason hand prosthetics are in such high demand. Good luck finding a pair.” W-C-S-S

“Eat your carrots. Fine, don’t eat them if you think your body can do without the nutrients, but don’t expect me to read to you when you become legally blind. Not eating carrots is the number one reason girls your age lose their eyesight before they reach the age of twenty.”W-C-S-S

 “Take your brother with you. Fine, leave him behind, but if he turns out to be an anti-social loser with stalker/serial-killer tendencies because you refused to bond with him, then don’t come running to me looking for protection when he comes after you with an axe. You reap what you sow.” W-C-S-S

I could go on, but you get the idea. Primed at an early age to think and observe in exaggerated terms left me no other choice except to become a writer. Thanks, Mumsie.

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