Circa ’60, is when I began to look inward to create a description of myself; what I might be about, what it was I observed, who I might be or was at the time, and where I might go once I grew up as this person. I was eight, going on ten years old.
I thought I was ten, but looking back at my grandfathers funeral event (date, time, etc.) I realized I had not yet become nine, which means I was only eight years old. Amazing. I could have sword earlier in my life that I was ten.
Nonetheless, I began to write. First, I wrote scripts of tv movies. Then, I wrote lyrics for songs. Finally, I began to write short stories and finally after that, my stories got longer and became novels, some novellas. The funny thing was I never showed anyone what I wrote, except the people who never validated me in the first place: my family. So naturally, I thought nothing of my own writing–pretty much as they did.
So it isn’t unusual that I never brought out anything I wrote until I was about twenty-five, divorced, and wanting to be a singer. The first attempt at exposure was my songs. I joined a group of people wo promoted (I thought) our lyrics, songs, whatever we had that we wanted to perform. Curiously, two of my songs, though registered with this organization (I still have the receipt), were very close to two other songs by famous singers. Honestly, I think they took mine, mixed it a bit then the songs became number one bestselling songs, only I never got credit for them.
AS that did not go too well, since there are probably more people wanting to be in Hollywood than crabs wanting to be in the ocean, more than there are ants in an anthill, I decided to give it up, tend to my children, and get married again. That was a mistake.
Later, I got married again after my SECOND divorce, and that too might have been a mistake. However, the thing good about that was that I was able to go to college at a very late age, grew up emotionally (well, somewhat) and finally was able to actually hope for a better me. No one told me that would be long time a’coming.
So now that I am, as they say, in the winter of my life I am finally spouting off so much fodder–albeit without much shuffle and interest in the outside world–that I am fine with the little bit of writing I’ve done, yes I hope someone might say to me that it is worth something, but if not, I will go quietly and comfortably to my grave without much regret.
So here I am an alumnus of a bachelor’s degree in English, to teach. I further educated myself as an alumnus of a master’s degree in Education, to teach, and throughout I managed to acquire a real estate broker’s license to gain an occasional check now and then. Don’t ever let anyone tell you real estate is the golden egg. It is, but only for a very few psychotic liars, stealers, and backstabbers. But it’s okay anyway; it’s fun.
Looking back I am proud of my life. I am a mother of three fine human beings. To boot, I am a grandmother of four wonderful young people, and I remained still married to the man who distracted me from my life’s drama for at least thirty-five years now. Why? Because, in the famous words by Debra Winger in the movie, “Terms of Endearment:” but, he’s so cute.
I hope you get something from my writing and take it with you to a better tomorrow.