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I believed my 8th grade teacher, Mrs. Holt, the day she called me to her desk at the front of the class. She had accused me of plagiarizing my book report. It was too good, “college level” she had said. “Show me right now where you copied this!” she barked, stabbing her finger into the book. Feeling a mix of joy and distress, I tearfully pleaded with her that everything I wrote was truly mine. In the next moments, the class faded into a blur. It felt as if my head was in a vacuum when Mrs. Holt reached over to touch my arm, to steady me as I stood there trembling. Open-heartedly, she looked at me earnestly, and with great kindness she said; “Oh honey, you have a gift. Surely you know this.” I was thirteen years old.
My name is Sanz.
All my life I've wanted to be a writer. What Mrs. Holt didn't know was that I was bound to a home where the only thing that mattered was that Jesus was coming soon. My life was not my own, it belonged to The Lord.
Tainted seeds had already taken root. They would grow into a haunting inner world that often jeered at me. Sharp tongues hissed holy scriptures while gnarled, accusing fingers fondled my tender soul. Years passed as my sense of reality sometimes teetered on a razor’s edge. I was lost in a maze of overgrown weeds and tangled vines, vestiges from sermons that had long since lost their meaning—I could not escape them, my efforts worn thin.
But that's not the end of the story.
People have asked me if I ever considered writing a book. I’ve always answered honestly that indeed I had. I occasionally attended writers workshops but had trouble with the vexing, infernal images that still played upon the walls of my mind. "Access denied!" saith The Lord. But once I made peace with a past I would never have chosen for myself, a door cracked open. A single, fine beam of hope pierced the darkness.
And so I write.
Here, where dragons dwell, you will find stories that have traveled far, like schools of fish on the current of life. Some stories are sad, some frightening, some funny, and some downright astonishing. I'll also share writings about everyday things or thoughts about current events. My hope is that you'll find some enjoyment reading the stories, and maybe pick up a few gems here and there.
To Mrs. Holt, who is probably no longer with us: your words to me that day were enough to carry me a lifetime.
