I wrote my first book of poetry when I was five. My favorite subjects in school always involved literature and writing. My mother kept journals her entire life until Alzheimer's Disease ravaged her mind. Her writings were clever and witty and very entertaining. For her, writing was an outlet; a way to express herself when there was no one to listen. It was a way to open up when she felt shy around people. She was so talented but forever humble; when she read some of my stories as a child she would say, "You know, Julie, writing ability runs in our family". I always thought that meant I had some literary genius secret uncle somewhere; she was too modest to say I may have gotten my talent from her. (I tell my writer/daughter she gets it from me!) There wasn't a lot of TV when I was a kid and VCR's weren't invented until I grew up (my kids are so shocked when they heard this! "Huh? Whatever did you do???") so I read a lot. I wrote. Just like it was for my mom, it was a channel of expression for a shy backward kid afraid of her own shadow. I love the challenge of the pen and transferring what thoughts and feelings are brewing in my mind on to a blank piece of paper. No one can distort my words; no one ever has to know I wrote it (unless one of my 9 older siblings got a hold of my diary), and if I don't like what it says I can rewrite it. Love to go back and reread it. But there's power in the pen; you can put your heart on a page, your sorrow, your grief, your joy and your love and tuck it away leaving your heart free and fresh again. It's also a great way to remind yourself what time you are supposed to be somewhere or what day it is. I probably should start writing down where I put my glasses or my cell phone... oh well, I guess that's what they make those little chains for. Middle age. Now there's a subject to write about... right after my nap.

Achievements. Well, after the birth of my first child I was asked to write about my experience for one of the midwives and she did put it in her book. I guess that makes me published.
Certifications. I have been told I am certifiable, does that count? Awards. All I have are my own pats on the back. Which gets more difficult with the plumping of age.