I don’t write to be famous, I don’t write to be known, I write because I am and I want to be read. How sad to fill a room with paintings no one sees or play music no one hears. Writing is talking without sound, singing without score and dancing without movement and yet, it is all of them. It is a solitary art conjured from thought and expressed by the need to communicate.

HEAD SLAPS, SPEED BUMPS and LIGHTBULBS, one woman's WTF, oops and ah-ha moments of life.

They were published once, and as every writer knows, once is not enough.

Friday, May 10, 2013

The girl with the dirty mind

Have you ever been so happy for someone you just cried? Have you ever been so happy for someone you never met, yet you still wanted to stand on the corner of Broadway and somewhere and megaphone their success?
That happened to me yesterday.

I read a post of a writer friend of mine she saw her book’s cover for the first time and loved it, and I was so happy for her I about went to my knees. You would have thought that woman was my own kid.

Sharing her writer’s journey with rest of us has been a wonderful gift. Lots of writers do that but this writer is different, because her prose is so good, at times it rumbles deep in your bones. She connects, as few writers do, to the humanness in us all. She’s so good and she doesn’t even know it; humility of talent, rare these days.

Her name, don’t forget it, is Averil Dean, she’s the sweetie with a dirty mind.


  1. My goodness, what a happy thing to wake up to this morning. My cheeks are pink.

    Thank you, Carolynn.

    1. You are more than welcome. Have a wonderful day, you deserve it.