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 LIGHT-BULBS, one woman's WTF, oops and ah-ha moments of life.

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



Wednesday, June 11, 2014

So, who am I ?

I won’t be posting for a while. 
I have column deadlines to make and I’m close to finishing,
HEAD-SLAPS, SPEED-BUMPS and LIGHT-BULBS;
one woman’s WTF, oops and ah-ha moments of life.  
Why I wrote, what I wrote and what happened after, from opinions, to questions, to situations via op-eds, essays, columns and articles, has become a memoir of words wrapped around my life.

Who am I?
Why would anyone want to read about someone with a platform as big as a front stoop?

I’m your next door neighbor, the woman behind you in line at the supermarket. I’m sitting next to you in the waiting room. I’ve taken your blood pressure; dry cleaned your clothes and sold you a car. I clean your teeth, I taught your kids and I wiped your butt when you were hospitalized. I’m the woman behind the cash register and the one standing at the stove. I'm your Senator, your cleaning lady, your Pastor, you mother, your daughter, the other woman, your wife. I made you cry, I made you laugh, I broke your heart and I mended it with a spool of Coats and Clark. 150 million females strong, I’m her, I am you. 

Like Nick and Val wrote, “I’m every woman.”(How's that for cliche Ms. Trite?)

Finishing this book is a mission. 
I’m doing it because as writers, why we write, what we write, is sometimes more fascinating than what we actually wrote. The fallout after publication is often interesting, almost always humorous and every so often it's disturbing and borders on terrifying.

While I look for mine, I wish you all many fine words.


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