My writing is all about you

It’s the beginning of the year and I’m feeling particularly sappy today… you can skip all this mumbo-jumbo or indulge me and read on.

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I work with a woman who is half-way through reading my second book. It’s always a little strange when someone I know in my “real-life” reads my stuff.

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I expected to hear good feedback because A) she knows me and has to see me on a daily basis and B) She’s polite and a genuinely nice woman.

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Today she told me that she loves it (she loved the Casual Rule and went right into book two, The New Rule). I thanked her… because I’m polite too and —well— it’s nice to hear good things about something you worked hard for.

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But then she started talking to me about the book… really talking to me and I realized— She got it. She was picking up on small details… things that she related to in her own life to the point that she was tearing up as we spoke.

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If you read my books, you know there’s nothing over-the-top. It’s real life. These characters are real. Their experiences are real. They’re alive in my head and heart.

To see her reaction, in front of me, was humbling.

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It’s moments like this… when you tap deep into someone’s soul and they FEEL your words, the emotions to the point where  it touches them… that remind me how proud I am to be an author.

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To anyone who has sent me a private message, a facebook comment,  blog comment, or a review for anything I’ve written… THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart.

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It’s YOUR words that make me want to be a better writer.

Ain’t Life Funny- A True Story

This is a story I shared on my facebook page some time ago.  I thought I’d share it here.

From the time I was seven years old I was part of a best friend trio. Molly, Jen, and me… friends through thick and thin… through mud pies and playground crushes.

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Once we reached our pre-teens, Molly’s parents flew her out (alone) to Florida to visit her aunt and grandmother for a month each summer. Molly’s mom used to bring me and Jen to the airport to pick her up at the end of her visit. An airport pickup was ultra glamorous. Neither of us had ever flown in a plane, let alone stepped foot in an airport. In our eyes, Molly’s life was flashy and electrifying. A teen jet-setter.

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Molly always came home with thrilling, envy-inducing tales about all the exciting things she did in Florida. It was endless stories of Disney World, shopping, and cute boys at the beaches. It was all so sophisticated and exhilarating. A far cry from Jen and I, who played kickball in the street with the neighborhood kids, rode our bicycles, picked blackberries growing wild in the wetlands, and hung-out in tree houses in the woods where there was usually a stack of old Playboy magazines the neighborhood boys hid.

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Mostly a Norman Rockwell existence… nothing to write home about.

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One year, when we were about twelve-years-old, Molly came home with a story about a boy she met while in Florida and how they were inseparable, summer romance, blah, blah, blah… that kind of thing. Since I saw us as a trio of equals, I was a little concerned (okay, okay… totally jealous) that the balance of coolness in our trio was tilting. So I did the only thing I could think of to slant the balance back to the center.

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I lied.

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I made up a story (thankfully Jen backed me on it) about how we met two guys and had our own summer romances (cue the soundtrack from Grease). Molly was (and still is) no dummy. She wanted details. Names, places, etc. Not thinking Molly would challenge our dishonesty; I panicked and came up with a name of a guy I never met.

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I knew he existed because for years my older sister teased me about him. One of her best friends from High School had a younger brother my age. She teased me all the time that she was going to fix me up with him. All the time.

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ALL. THE. EFFING. TIME.

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Those of you who have older siblings can sympathize with me. Once they find your kryptonite, the one thing that needles you until you start swinging your fists, they never let it go. They live for your weakness, flourish in it. I never met the kid, didn’t know what he looked like, what his voice sounded like, how tall he was… all I knew was just hearing his name made me cringe. I hated him because he was the (unknowing) source of hours of teasing and misery.

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Nevertheless he came in handy for this particular fib, because he was male and she’d never meet him. He was a convenient lie. So I announced that I dated a boy who I met through my sister and Jen dated his friend, Eric (totally fictional friend). We stuck to the stories of our summer romances and eventually the lie faded to the background of pre-teen life.

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Two years later, we were High School freshman. This was the big time. Coolness was imperative. Although my High School was HUGE (my graduating class alone was 1100 students), the honors classes were relatively small. You got to know pretty much everyone in the Honor class rotation quickly. One day I heard my fake “boyfriend’s” name mentioned. I cringed. This mystery kid who I hated actually existed and he was in here in the flesh. Worse… he was friends with some mutual friends. I avoided him like the plague for two reasons: I absolutely hated him because he was the thorn my sister put in my side for years…and if Molly met him, she’d figure out Jen and I were liars and not nearly as cool as we pretended.

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Fortunately, in our four years of High School… my lie was never discovered (because it’s a BFF’s duty to ridicule you if something embarrassing was discovered). I wouldn’t say I was ever “friendly” with my fake boyfriend… but we coexisted since we had some mutual friends. I even went to a party at his house during my senior year in High School with my boyfriend at the time.

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To this day, Molly has never put together (and I’m sure long ago forgotten) my big lie. I love getting away with a good story.

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Today, Molly, Jen, and I live in different states. But we talk and keep up with each other from time to time..

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And that fake boyfriend, who I never met and absolutely despised…. We’ll be celebrating our 27th wedding anniversary in December.

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(This is a true story. My friend’s names have been changed.)

*** Just a quick note, I’ve added separate pages for my books and their links.  I apologize if you get a bunch of emails because of it.