My Support Group Hates Me

Just for fun:  Here’s a Contributor’s Note I wrote in a memoir workshop recently.   The assignment was to play with a creative version of what might appear in the back if we were ever to publish a book.

’69 Was a Very Good Year

I recently flew cross-country to attend my high school reunion.  Now is there a cooler year to be the graduating class of or WHAT?

It’s Official: I’m a Panther (sort of)

That’s what my ex, who was a number of years younger than me, said when I jokingly asked him if I was a cougar.

Bad Boys, Nice Guys, and Female Gym Teachers Part 2

In Part 1 of the above, I continued the story of how I became interested in writing, from innocent rhymes to my mother to racy novellas to winning a high school award.  Unfortunately, no one thought to refer me to a college with a decent writing program.  I was like the Oliver Twist of writing …

Bad Boys, Nice Guys and Female Gym Teachers

My enjoyment of writing began early, as I described in a previous post Pretty Girls, Phallic Symbols, and the Mysterious Human Brain.  Starting with childish tributes to my mother’s beauty (almost as soon as I could write), I soon became more sophisticated.   By age 11, I was regaling my friends with a novella written in daily installments.  As we walked to school, they listened, wide-eyed, to a growing tale of deep mystery.  It was set in London, with a lovely young heroine who had recently lost her mother.  As she visited the cemetery one foggy, lonely night…