![]() My stories took me to another place, a place I loved. More importantly, I was hooked on writing. ![]() I was anyone I wanted to be as long as there was a twisted tale involved. Over the years, I’ve been an ex-call girl, a secret novelist, a wayward wife, a man who spent fifteen years in prison, a blind psychologist, and a psychic. I had an idea, knew the characters, but I didn’t have a clue where I was going, or maybe I should say where the characters were taking me. Years later, no, decades later, when I needed a diversion because real life became too heavy, I sat down at my computer and started typing out a story. That led me to art school and a career as an illustrator. Wherever there was a piece of paper and pencil, I drew something. Most of the writers in the groups to which I belong claim to have written stories since they were kids. Then I thought longer and harder about what “made it” meant. When Jenny asked me to write a blog post titled My Made-it Moment, I thought, made it? But I haven’t made it. ![]() I’d missed it, but Polly knows what the boat is, and boy, is she sailing it. And I realized that I’d completely missed the boat. ![]() I spotted at least a half-dozen Made It Moments as I read Polly Iyer’s piece–see if you can spot them all And then I came to the Moment Polly cites out of them all. ![]()
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