Once upon a time, not so very long ago, there lived a little boy and his grandmother. They were best friends. She called him Mr. Stinkypants Bigfeet, and he called her – what else? – Grandma. She was there when he took his first step, uttered his first word, and took his first bike ride. They created adventures from early in the morning until late in the evening while his parents defended the kingdom and nursed the sick. They read all the books inside the castle, sometimes two or three times (especially, the peek-a-boo ones and anything to do with tractors), and when they tired of those stories, they created their own magic on white paper with fat crayons. Yellow was her favorite; his was brown. Every day they scoured the confines of the castle looking for the best places to hide, and then they explored the wonders of the courtyard outside. Exhausted from their adventures, they returned triumphant to feast on animal crackers and juice. They danced in joyo
Earth date: November 2, 2020 “I felt I had to write. Even if I had never been published. I knew that I would go on writing, enjoying it and experiencing the challenge.” Gwendolyn Brooks Nine and a half years ago, I started a blog. I’d met with an editor and of all the advice she gave me, joining social media and writing a weekly blog were two important ways of growing a readership. If I ever wanted to impress a publishing company, I needed a good finished manuscript and a group of people (other than family and friends) willing to purchase my book. Because publishing companies are all business, I needed to demonstrate I could be an asset to the company. So here I am 481 posts later, 190,000 hits, and a handful of small pieces published to my name. Three and a half manuscripts sit on my desk, some more finished than others, but – honestly - I have no desire to see them published. The experience has been more than the compensation I desire. Somewhere in the la