I am a writer. Someone whose whole identity is conjoined with the art of building nothing from words. Yet, before I assumed this identity, I was a reader. I'd spend hours consumed in books and stories.
I have read different sorts of people. Have seen styles, strokes that are all different but lead to one place, beautiful solitude. I have read a lot of fiction and nonfiction. I have been blown away by the different approaches I've seen to romance, crime, horror and young adult.
I have sighed, I have laughed and I have cried. With the characters, I have cried. With them, I have died, been resurrected, frustrated, angry, indignant, brave… I have always lived the characters I come across.
And with a lot of admiration, I salute those who create these people. Who breathe into them and make them so real that you feel incomplete for days after you shut that book. You return for the second, third, fourth and millionth time just because these characters have been built to resonate with our desires and to make us feel not alone. Before I became I writer, I was a reader.
I read C.M Owens for the first time and thought I had found the best author. Her style was something else. She was amazing with those brush strokes and absolutely used those puppet strings with experience.
C.M Owens gave me people who were friends. I was their friend. They didn't know I existed but I laughed with all I met, Maverick, Kode, Maya, Ruby, Brin, Rye… so many of them. I felt scared with Tria, horrified with Allie, hurt with Bella.
I puked with Lana, puked at her story. I was angry at Logan and very hearbroken for Jake. I know these people do not exist but they do now. And their creator did. She lived. But she passed before I got to meet her.
Named a genius, C.M Owens came from plumbing and doing odd jobs as a mother to writing and creating fantasies. Her humor, her style, her authenticity was too raw. She was just so good. So good she had written about 70 or more books in her life time within the span of eight years. She was so good she had to use three aliases; C.M Owens, S.T Abby and Kristy Cunning.
I have read all her C.M books. Read her S.T books but yet to start on Kristy. Her mind is a gold mine. She can go from humorous to dark in a matter of seconds. I always thought I'd someday meet her. When I become capable enough, I'd board a plane for one of those book signing things. You know…but then a book she was supposed to release never came out.
Before that, I don't follow much on social media. I wasn't worried even because I thought, she'll get it done. However, I was compelled to check when a fellow book reader voiced her concern at the fact that C.M hadn't released promised book.
It was everywhere. She died in an accident. 2021. 2021! I was really sad that day. A star had been taken from us. Friends, worlds and plots died with her. Her family didn't just lose her, we her readers lost her too. We lost gold and I am honored to have met C.M Owens.
If you read some of my stories and read some pieces of C.M's, you may notice something although I'm amateur and she's just gold. But I aspired to write like her. I aspired to create on that canvas like she did. Someday, I hope to.
C.M Owens is one of the best authors close to my heart. She is forever an author to me for the many lives she saved. She was a hero who fueled my writing fire. She was– is –beautiful and lives forever in our hearts.
