Writer
As many people whose families are in danger from this virus isolate, signs go up on their doors but life goes on Behind the signs signifying caution people at risk sheltering in place here, there live people. Humans with lives they aren't quite willing to sacrifice to a capitalistic god called the Dow. People who... Continue Reading →
In these days of self publishing and ebooks, some people believe that the need for Literary Agents has expired. I have never been one of those people. It has been my desire to be traditionally published. That journey began for me by finishing my Bachelor's degree in creative nonfiction writing. This was followed by post-graduate... Continue Reading →
It has been a LONG time since I have written in this blog. For my loyal readers, I do apologize! I may not have been writing here, however, I HAVE been writing! If you follow me on social media, you will have seen this past year found my publishing more prolific than ever before! In... Continue Reading →
When I entered the family history center that stormy April afternoon, I had one thing on my mind; I had never seen a photo of my father’s father. I was 46 and I had never seen my grandfather’s face. I typed his name into the search bar on the site, Newspapers.com, “George R. Slighte,” the results came back instantly.
Ten years ago, I began a war against a drug that now takes the life of thousands daily
Wow! I had to look back at the last time I had posted a blog here, I thought I had been writing much more often. Well, I have been writing, I've just not been posting it on here. my Odyssey profile I am so sorry for not keeping you, my readers, updated on my writing... Continue Reading →
Do you read the paperwork that is handed to you by your pharmacy when you get a new prescription?
I've been writing for Odyssey now since February. Although it may have seemed like an odd time to take on a new obligation, writing articles for a larger audience as well as being able to promote some that I had written and published here or in other blogs has been a distraction from medical frustrations... Continue Reading →
Walking hurt, so I stopped walking. When it stopped hurting as much, the pain was replaced with neuropathy and when I walked, I began falling. The day before my 52nd birthday, a powerchair was prescribed. I waited with bated breath for the freedom that it offered.
My grandma, who I simply called, "Grandma," but whom everyone else called by her middle name, "Ellen," was my confidant when I was a growing girl. It was with her that I saw my first music video on a late-night television show after Grandpa went to bed.
