Robin P. Waldrop hails from Miami, but lives in Alabama with best friend, business partner, and husband, John. She is a mother of five, grandmother of five, and owner of a variety of different animals.
When she’s not working at her business with her husband she’s found at her computer where she breathes life into all the wonderful characters that are born from her vivid imagination.She is an award-winning author who enjoys writing edgy YA paranormal/Urban Fantasy, and FBI suspense/thriller novels and short stories. Always a voracious reader with an unapologetic television addiction, Robin still searches for the perfect cup of coffee.
What Inspires Me to Write
My oldest daughter and I are big readers and we swap books all the time. We were talking just the other day about what inspired me to start writing, and why. After careful thought I realized all I could think of was how ideas just sort of come to me. And if I don’t quickly get them on paper they soon start to haunt my every waking moment. Seriously.
Before I wrote my first novel, Twisted, I kept having a reoccurring dream about a hard core young woman going around arresting sadistic killers and making the world a safer place. It was only a dream, so I really didn’t think too much about it until I found myself obsessing while awake. The more I thought about her, the more real she became. It was literally driving me batty, but I still did nothing but continue to read.
I had also joined a book club and it just happened that this particular monthly read was a suspense/thriller about an FBI agent. I was so excited, I could hardly wait to get my hands on the book. What a let down it turned out to be. It had to be one of the worst books ever written. I’m so not even joking. As soon as I began reading I quickly noticed the prose was choppy at best. I thought, well, it will get better. Just keep going. So I did. The more I attempted to read, the more frustrated I became.
I didn’t even make to the end of the first chapter before flinging it across the room. my husband asked me what was wrong and I told him how terrible it was and that even I could write better than that. I mean this was a book that made it through professional editors and agents, and eventually publishing. It was awful.
My husband, being the calm rational one, told me to go write something better. I figured he was teasing, which he does quite often, so I laughed sarcastically, but I guess the thought stuck in the back of my mind, because for weeks I thought about little else. I prayed about it for a while, then one Sunday afternoon I walked into the house after church, went to my bedroom, and sat down in front of my computer.
Four months later I finished my first novel, Twisted. That was a year and a half and two novels ago. So I guess you could say my love for reading a good book was my inspiration to write. Now, I’m hooked and when I have one of those dreams or nightmares that stick with me long after I’ve awaken, a huge smile spreads across my face because I know the beginning of my next novel has just been born.