About Jillian Castle

I have been writing for as long as I can remember.  As a grade-schooler, it was poetry (a theme that would carry far into adulthood, much further than I like to admit). I also wrote short stories. But in the back of my mind, I felt like a novelist.  I spent far too many years trying to decide what kind of novels I wanted to write. Indecision paralyzed me.

I started and stopped writing at least seven books in a fifteen-year span. I made outlines. I made character sheets. I bought and read books on craft. I read blogs. I subscribed to writing magazines. I spent sleepless nights lying in bed, perfecting plots, and creating characters.

And still, I was paralyzed by fear.

Something changed in me, in my forties.  I was living alone in Wisconsin, having come back to the Midwest after my second divorce. I was re-learning independence. I had not lived alone for more than a few months in twenty years. The quiet did its job, and suddenly, plots were coming to me. I re-read my treasured books on craft. I felt ready. I worked ceaselessly on that plot. I chose a subject that was near and dear to my heart – Avalon – and I wrote the first chapter in my head every night, before I went to sleep.

And still, I was paralyzed by that same fear.

More years without actual writing slipped past me. I moved again to Maryland this time. I worked at home, but I hated my job. Previously, I had worked for a small company that I loved. When that company was purchased by an international corporation, I stayed on, but I did not like the structure, and I did not like the soul sucking feel of a corporate environment. When the owners of my previous small company started a new company, I made the jump with complete abandon.

I felt free!

And still, I was paralyzed by the same old fear.

I cannot put my finger on what changed two years ago. Maybe it was my healthy work life. Maybe it was my healthy love life. Maybe I have just reached an age where that fear has grown tired. Too tired to put up a fight when I sat down at the computer to write. The fear was no longer paralyzing.  Oh, it was still there.  It still is. But it does not control me anymore, and for that I am grateful.

I took the story that I started to plot while still in Wisconsin, and I got serious about it. I took over the unused dining room in our home and filled it with shelves and a desk with a comfy chair.

And I wrote, without paralyzing fear.

I am originally from Iowa. I was born there, in the same hospital my parents were born in. I lived there for the better part of my childhood, graduated high school, and attended college there. Life took me to many parts of this country.  Wyoming, California, Oregon, Connecticut, Virginia, Wisconsin, Maryland. I have been well-off; I have been dead poor. I have been married and divorced twice.

I live in a tiny town in Maryland, with my partner, Ben, and our cat, Grace.

And I have always been a writer, whether I was writing or not.