Please join me in welcoming Dorothy Cox to Highlighted Author.
I’m a 23 year old college student who just happened to write a book. I don’t really consider myself an author. I’m a student, a wife, a lab tech, and occasionally I write things. It’s not easy trying to be all those people at once. Most days are filled to the rafters with things to do. Even my breaks and lunches are spent checking my email. But there was a time where things weren’t so busy for me.
In April of 2009 the economy hit the lab I work at pretty hard. People were getting laid off, and the rest of us had pretty much nothing to do. I was getting bored, very bored. A friend and I found an unfinished manuscript online, and as a joke tried to finish it. It was pretty funny, but it ignited the writer inside of me. Pretty soon I was creating characters of my own with lives of their own. And at some point I found myself inventing a character with a job far more boring than mine. His job was to watch other people live their lives, and make a list of everything good and bad they ever did. He was a cosmic tattletale. The first part of the book that I actually wrote in my head was a part that didn’t make it in. It was the line “having never known my name, they simply call me…” and the name Simon popped into my head. And there it was, Simon was born. Like me, Simon was bored with his job. He’d grown tired of it, he wanted more, but what that was he didn’t know. Unlike me Simon begins shirking his responsibilities, and befriending girls he doesn’t know. And the rest, is the story of Watcher.
The thing I couldn’t wrap my mind around, more than the fact that she’d noticed me, more than the fact that she’d talked to me, was how these others could interact with her as if she were a mere person. They moved about her as if she was no more special than anyone else. They talked to her casually; they laughed; they touched her.
How could they form words? How could they stand to be around her without losing all sense of control as I had? It was hard to understand how she was not nearly as special to them as she was to me. To them she was like everyone else; to me she was more. Much more. An unattainable thing, someone I would look upon and be agape at her majesty then never see again.
No! Stop! What are you thinking? I had to stop. I had to keep my thoughts off of her. I didn’t even know why they kept wandering back to her. Why had she piqued my interest so much? It was probably because she was the first person who had ever talked to me. It wasn’t words; many people had said things to me over the years, but this was more. She had conversed with me. She took an interest in my game and willingly played along. I felt a pang inside. I think I liked it. It was nice not to be the only one playing my games.
My eyes lingered too long on the girl with the blonde hair. Simon! Come on! You have to stop this! I looked down at my newspaper.
Want more Dorothy? Visit her website at http/dorothycoxwriting.com/