I was born LaDonna to Dennis and Josephine Vaughn on December 28th. No, I�m not telling you the year [plug in my giggles right about here].
Like most people I had a normal upbringing. Although in the beginning, I don�t think my teachers felt the same. In school, I was forever getting a scolding because I was always trying to flex my skills as a writer. I was continuously A-B-C�ing all over the walls, doors, and anything else that had free space for crayon and pencil markings. Being that I wasn�t a sports-oriented child, writing was my form of entertainment. My teachers often told me to sit at home and draw silly pictures for my parents, but that wasn�t my kick. I wanted to write. Totally disobeying their advice, it wasn�t long before I started writing short stories for my friends and visiting family members.
I remember this one particular project in elementary school that gave me my first bout with stress. It was Black History month and my class was assigned a book report that required a visit to the local library. We were required to check out a book and compose a two-page summary of a famous, legendary African American figure. Back then my parents didn�t have a reliable source of transportation and I didn�t have any neighboring friends whom I could have hitched a ride with. Since I was unable to get to a library, I had to think long and hard how to keep my good-little-school-girl image in tact. To keep from being a laughing stock of my class, I conjured up a black history story of Langston Hughes. I knew it was wrong, but my main focus was maintaining my perfect GPA and not jeopardizing my honor roll status by getting a failing grade.
Being a na�ve child, I thought I could pull off my fabricated story and ace the perfect grade. I didn�t want to turn in my assignment without letting a pair of eyes scan over it. Like any inspiring writer, I wanted a second opinion. I ran my story passed my mother. Well, my mother did everything but laugh in my face. Totally ashamed and embarrassed by her comments and criticism, I destroyed the story and accepted my failing grade with a tear-soaked face. After that humiliating experience, with my broken heart and spirit, I vowed never to write again.
Each year after that, I did everything but write the President to avoid any future library assignments. Finally, in my graduating year of junior high school, I was given an assignment, that didn�t require a trip to the library or any other �special� research. I had to write about the meaning of Christmas. That�s it! I know it sounds goofy now, but at that age and being afraid to write, I thought it was going to be bloody murder to put something down on paper. I can�t remember what I wrote, yet I do recall my teacher reciting my report in front of the class with tears cascading down her face.
Seeing her cry as she read my story did it for me. I knew from that moment I had to write. It wasn�t until later in life (when life-learning experiences molded me) that I decided to pick up my blue pen and put it down on paper like God had intended for me
My first official novel, The Dressing Room, was written in three months, yet it took me two years to prepare the sonofagun for publication. Currently, TDR is in its final editing stages and I can�t wait until the day I can say, �Hey, y�all! My book is finally published! You wanna buy a copy? I have a few in my car right now!�
TDR is a story based in the topless entertainment industry. Being a former employee of an adult strip club, I had first hand account of the goings-on inside the working environment, so it was only natural that I wrote about it.
Since putting down TDR, my writing has ventured into tales of urban erotica. I�m currently drafting my second novel that I know will raise a few eyebrows and get some hormones racing. By the way, if you�re not a fan of sex, crime, and relationships, I�m not the writer for you! |
