author ~ editor ~ coach
I wanted to become a writer when I grew up but instead became a newspaper journalist, a freelance magazine writer, a mother, a divorcee, and then a corporate editor and stepmother of a blended family. When I wrote, it was at the behest of others. I suspected dreams might only happen in my sleep.
What I didn’t know was that I was always a writer, that it was only up to me to declare myself one. I am, therefore, at long last, a writer. In 2017, when my children were grown, I began working on a novel. And then, on a trip to Colombia in February 2019, I stayed in an airless hotel room with two beds and four women, and I couldn’t sleep. Memories of my childhood—the way my father used words to hurt others and himself—came tumbling out the next morning in the form of a long essay. That essay became the basis for “The Invisible Man,” in the anthology, True Stories, Volume II, and for my memoir-in-progress, Lessons in Reverse.
True Stories II
My two sisters and I were born into privilege, the daughters of a successful physician and a clever and devoted mother. But all is rarely as it seems. This story features early memories of my painful and destructive relationship with my father—a misogynist and narcissist who struggled behind-the-scenes with depression, anxiety, and addiction.
Dear baby-writer, don’t give up
I like to joke that the only sign I was meant to be a writer was all that bad poetry I wrote when I was young. This phase seemed to peak in my teens. Hard emotions percolated up to the surface right after an ugly breakup or a bout of disillusionment over my...
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