Our Today's Author - Candy O'Donnell
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| Candy O'Donnell |
What you write?
**I write fiction and non-fiction. Recently, I have written
a book titled "Psychic Perception". This book concerns a woman's
intuitive findings of missing person's cases. I also enjoy writing paranormal
horror and children's literature.
Why you write?
*I write to get out what is within me. Writing to me is all
about telling unique stories to those willing to listen and read what is
written. I have also found writing to be relaxing and soothing.
For whom you write?
*I write for myself above all else. It is something that is
for my eyes only until I feel the world needs to read it. When we write for
others, something seems to be missing.
By whom you inspired?
*Stephen King inspired me early on and my mother. The first
story I ever wrote was about her battle with leukemia. At first I jotted down
the story for a writing assignment at school, then it turned out to be
something much more.
You can Share you current writing (Any small Story/Poem) or
Tell your Future plan about writing?
**Chapter 1
Eastwood, California
When you have a psychic gift,
Don’t hoard it, share it with the world.
As I stood over the bloodied, twisted corpse, my nerves
tangled within over how to write the young woman’s tragedy, let alone tell her
parents and the world about her. Horrendous images came to my mind of how to
describe what happened to her; how it happened, the circumstances surrounding
this case, and of course the perp’s name, whoever he might be. It was too
daunting while thinking of my soon to be ex-husband.
My rigid body sat at the desk as I mulled over what to
write. Mine was a sinister life, observing death through my psychic eye while
seeing and feeling everything the victim was feeling. My reflections took me
back to the haunting dreams that tormented me as I placed my hands on the
keyboard and began to type. Inside my head, I knew where Faith would be found.
It was not a pretty sight, but it was something that was a permanent part of my
life. This need to know took place daily as my mind raced over what to think of
next. How agonizing to believe that true evil was out there, waiting for any
unsuspecting person to fall into its clutches.
I typed fast, and then slowed when an inaccuracy occurred.
This assignment was not for the faint of heart, and those who might accomplish
it needed to possess a hardened outer shell to protect them from the
monstrosities that walked among us. Again, I relapsed into the past, and my
musings directed my gaze to where I spotted the manila envelope from the
lawyer’s office. I chose to ignore it, but could not. My hand lifted it up and
I ran my fingertips over its smooth edge. It was something that I did with
every piece of mail I received.
Shaking my head, I inhaled and tried not to allow my mind to
wander. It needed to be focused on the task at hand, and my fingers began their
dance along the keyboard once again. My hands typed what I had witnessed as my
stomach did flops. So I continued on, because this job would never be finished
if I did not believe that there was some good left in this world.
I began,
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