" The real me and where I came from." Here goes nothin.

So I guess, I wanted to finally put into word who I am and what it's like to be me. Who would care is beyond me but here goes. Iv'e never been truthfully honest about me, my family or my past before. I usually leave out a shit load of information about " Where I came from " and how I became me. I don't know if i'll ever actually publish this or if it will end up in the trash like most of my other attempt at explaining the life of a nobody. I'll probably lose half of my followers but oh well. It might just end up being nothing but rantings that nobody but me can understand anyway. My name is Nicole Faith Hill and I am a writer that suffers from obsessive compulsive disorder, among a shitload of other things. I am an insignificant nobody from two insignificant nobodies from a small town in north Florida. I don't want to go to far into detail about my child hood. It sucked and I don't like to talk about all of it. Lets just say that if you put together all of the sad, tragic, disgusting after school specials you have ever seen, that might cover most of it. I was red headed and freckle faced and had a gap in my front teeth a mile wide. To top that all off, I was blind as a bat and had a crossed eye. I wore glasses with three inch coke bottle lenses. Lets just say that school sucked to. Endless bullying and persecution. I went home most days and cried. But it made me tough, which was good because by the time I was eight I had gone through just about every bad thing a woman could imagine happening to her. At eight years old, I heard the words that shattered my faith in everyone except me and my siblings. " Every family has a secret. This is ours. " My childhood was officially over. and yet I somehow still managed to drag my brother and sister out the other side, if not completely whole at least somewhat sane. You'll notice if you follow me that I actively tweet and blog my support for many causes from child abuse to bullying. My child hood left me angry with no outlet for it accept to write and read myself into other places and times. Thank god for my punching bag! Speaking of god, don't really believe in god. I believe something created us. " obviously " but I don't believe its the loving and forgiving god that we read about in the bible that will help you if you prayed to him. Bullshit. I prayed when I was little. Every freaking night and did god help me? No. I helped myself! I guess, I don't believe in god because if he did exist and he allowed such horrible terrible things to happen to innocent children, that would make him a sick sadistic son of a bitch and I would not care for him much anyway. My mom had two jobs because my step dad was a.... Loser and I was doing most of the house work and raising of my brother an sister I have been managing a house hold since the age of eight. I wrote and read to escape my life. I used to have dreams of other people doing other things. Interesting things. I would think it was wishful thinking. Seeing other people on grand adventures and doing great heroic things. Then I started writing them down when I woke up and realized that I could embellish upon them quite easily and make entire stories revolving around this one key conversation or fight that I dreamed about. Started that at around nine. By the time I was twelve, I would have full blown daydreams about the other people and places. I guess shit was bad enough that I had to daydream, That I was somewhere else even when I was awake. I wrote those down too. At twelve I wrote my first novella. I threw it away of course because who would ever care about anything that I wrote anyway. I grew up of course, had boyfriends of course was in love once, but it turned out he was an asshole. Broke up with me three days after I gave him my virginity. Something that I had been clawing onto with tooth and nail all through child hood cause, I knew that somehow that was going to be the only thing that I ever have to offer. But what ever. When I met Willie ( The Hubby ) I was sixteen. He is Cuban and was from Miami. He was on his high school football and wrestling team. Everyone knew him. Everyone wanted to be his friend. He tried to hit on me and I ignored him. Figuring it was a joke and the other shoe would fall eventually. He went back to Miami the next day and I didn't see him for another year. This time he would not take no for an answer. Having no idea why this gorgeous dude who looks like he should be on a billboard would have any interest in me it took him a while but I finally gave in and fell head over heals. He is an artist, he draws, he paints he even makes vinyl fishing decals for his company. fshnkng.com. Yes, I just shamelessly name dropped but I'm proud of my Hubby and like to brag. We now have been together four twelve years and have two sons ages eleven and seven. But on to me again. I write. I have tons of stories in my head . I daydream about something or dream about it and sit down to start writing and it just flows for hours on end. Sometimes I don't remember most of what I wrote until I reread. I seriously zone out! I'll probably never get published because, I cant do things like they are supposed to be done, I guess you could say. I cant plan a novel since, I don't really know what I'm writing till I sit down. A synopsis. Whatever. I have tried to do them but they just make me angry and I give up. It was they same way in school. Plan your speech before you write it, outline it! I never did that and I made a's. I just write what comes out. If it's decent I keep going. If it's shit I toss it. And Query letters. I hate those! Hey you publisher. I know I'm a nobody and nearly invisible but could you take a look at this? It's really needs edited but I don't have the money for it and have tried like nine times to do it myself but because of my OCD and the insane need to be perfect, I keep rewriting the damn thing! The formatting sucks so I don't know what to do about that. I'm an artist for gods sake not an editor! And those cost money. Money, I don't have! Money I will never have! I feel like when I die, I'll be one of those sad stories that people sometimes talk about. She had so much talent, so much potential. Maybe if she was born to a different social class. Maybe she would have had more opportunity to make something of herself. Probably why I decided that If I ever found out that Vampires existed, I land one of my own. Think about it. I was born to low on the ladder to ever make the climb in one life time. I need more! LOL. Probably why my first book is about the existence of them. I'm not crazy now. I know they actually don't exist. But a girl can dream. It's either that or the fountain of youth if I'm going to live long enough to rise above my impoverished beginnings and middle so far. LOL Anyway. I found the KDP site one day and thought well what the hell. No one will read it but at least my name will be out there in the cosmos or something. But so far, I'm finding that it's not enough. I want people to read it, I want people to like it. What did I get myself into? I was perfectly happy being nearly invisible. Now I don't want that anymore. I want More. Every new follower I get, Every copy of my book that sells, I want more. No longer is Nikki happy sitting in the corner. I will not go quietly into the night! like everyone seems to want me to. I have a voice dammit! Well, I guess that's pretty much it. Like it or not, I am who I am and I don't really want to change that.