I started out as a storyteller. For years, I would turn the near tragedies and ups and downs of our lives into our family's comedy hour. I can't say I didn't love the pull from the audience and the rewarding response. As folks would listen they encouraged me to write down the old stories. I never dreamed that in my sixties I would learn to write my thoughts and weave them into tales that might be read by strangers.
I was born during the depression in upstate Albany, New York to Italian immigrant parents. At times, I encountered difficult pathways from my hot-blooded upbringing with an authoritarian, manic-depressive, father, who had one foot in Italy and one in America.
Childhood tribulations chewed directly into my spirit; the residue was, at times, overpowering. My memoir, Marriage, Kidneys, and Other Dark Organs, reveals, I hope, with sadness and wit, my tricky path to maturity.
I spent long years in search of answers to my fears, using humor to cover difficult times; it took years to take responsibility for my own life; years to allay the anger in having to forfeit my childhood as the family referee; years before I understood my parents and could replace bitterness with forgiveness; years to find the love in all this disorder; years to recognize that the legacy that made me a peacemaker was not always a benefit. Peace at any price.
Woven amidst my long-term marriage and two great daughters are a number of diverse work experiences, which added much to my ‘school of hard knocks’ education. Getting maturity was the best thing for this ole gal! I started writing after I retired from the different forms of insanity and have never regretted a moment. I'm now writing my third novel, working on a children’s ghost tale and other stories - so stay with me!