Here I sit in my den. With my computer system (affectionately named Hal), my phone/fax, two filing cabinets, a wall full of books, flags hanging on the wall (St. Andrews Cross, Rampant Lion, and the USA), accompanied by various oils paintings, pictures, and Terry Redlin's plates and calendar sets. My lighthouse, and Lassie collections scattered on shelves here and there. This is my realm. This is where I sit and breathe life into my stories.
My husband respects my realm. Sheepishly peaking in through the door, he tries to catch my eye before he enters. Even the dogs seem to tip toe in and quietly lie down in various spots. Except for my loyal old friend "Minute", who draws my attention in her own special four-footed way. She knows this is as much her room as mine. I have set no rules for this room. My husband and furry "family" seem to have made their own to follow
I write better at night. It seems that stories, very much like dreams, are moon worshipers. I normally write for about two hours. Some nights, however, a particular story might take me away on a journey that will last until 3 or 4 o'clock in the morning. Present time is lost in journeys such as the ones my stories have taken me on. Fingers flying on my keyboard, I have unwittingly created my own time machine. When my story has finally returned me home, I climb into bed exhausted. My husband, arising later, followed by all the dogs but one, quietly draws the shades, shuts the door, and lets me sleep.
The experience of a young adult trying to figure out what they want to do for employment or education can be overwhelming. My book will give them insight to what it means to be a carpenter. And the progress unions have made in discrimination.
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The story of Ron Hull, paralyzed in a surgical accident back in the dreaded polio epidemic days, was able to overcome most of the stigma and stereotypes and "pass for normal" for 30 years. As Ron's paralysis increased gradually through the next 20
