I recently (like the day before yesterday) finally put up a Facebook page designed strictly for those who want to follow my writing path. I just never understood why a Facebook page would matter, or would help me launch my book(s). I mean, what does it matter that[…]

Have you ever read a Chicken Soup for the Soul book? Chicken Soup for the Soul, a series of books started by Jack Canfield, now includes over 250 titles and has sold more than 110 million copies in the US and Canada alone. It’s been translated into 43[…]

One of the themes of my memoir is codependency. If you read my book (when it is published, of course), you will notice that I seem to flit from one relationship to the next. It started when I was fifteen-years-old. I met a guy who was five years[…]

  Stopping the Cycle of Generational Alcoholism I was disgusted with my parents’ alcoholism. So this is how I handled it; I took drugs instead. It made total sense to me at the time. Drugs were clean. I could hide them more easily than my mother’s 5th of[…]

I hear ya… As I am working on my memoir, I have had to ask myself a very serious question. What theme threads run through the tapestry of my life? Have I experienced things that I’ve learned from? How can this help my readers in some way? “It[…]

Hi everyone, I want to say thank you for all who have stopped by this blog and have taken the time to read the story of my life and even leave comments. You have been so encouraging to me. I am taking this blog down (it will be[…]

The thing about tragedies is that they catch you by surprise.  You get up in the morning and lazily eat breakfast as if you have all the time in the world.  You pick out something to wear (as if it mattered), and lackadaisically wander through the routine of[…]

(If you are new to this blog, a good way to read it is to start with the very first post, “It Was A Dark And Stormy Night” which I posted in May 2012. You can locate it in the archives. This is a memoir, the story of[…]

A year passed, and we were still living with the guy I met at work…the one who rescued me from Michael the Archangel.  We just sort of settled in, pretending to be a family.  Except for flinching every time he tried to put his arm around me, I[…]

Michael the Archangel and I had finally found our way back to Los Angeles. His mother had allowed us to temporarily move in with her. She already shared the three-bedroom bungalow with her elderly mother, who had lost a leg lifting a car off of a six-year-old girl.[…]