Thanks for stopping by for a bit.

I can rehash over again why writing appealed to me but I won’t and…

It didn’t.

I was a Summer School Kid who, according to the teachers over the years, would say I didn’t work up to my potential.

First, when I was young, people did not talk about Attention Deficit Disorder. They also didn’t address boredom of a subject, or the sugar low after eating a bag of candy on the way to school.

Additionally, I was not allowed to have a voice in the home or at work.

My dogs were my outlet, as four-legged therapists.

In 2016, an election exposed what lay in the inner sanctum of people’s thoughts. Hatred flew around like spitballs in a grammar classroom. Listening stopped, mouths worked overtime, and social media suddenly became everyone’s megaphone.

To my own embarrassment, I have to acknowledge being sucked into the swirling murky water of debate with people with no faces. I spent fourteen hours a day to escape into the electronic world to try and educate people.

After a while, I gave up and began to write my own rant called: What Frosts My Nuts.

It was a short blurb which burst from my neurons to just vent.

A woman contacted me via the messaging system of a social platform and asked if I would write for her website.

My response was simple….I can’t write.

Her response, “You can tell a story.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Just give me three hundred words about anything.”

“Ok.”

My first article was about being a volunteer on a fire department.

The memories kicked in as a bull chasing a Matador (a story for another day).

When it was done, I had over 3,000 words and it was most all true.

She put it on the site, and I knew no more about it as far as reader analytics.

I continued to write trying to stay away from politics for the media was hashing that up pretty good themselves. I think over the year and a half… two of those type of articles were created.

One was to abolish the Income Tax Act (which may actually happen), and another which poked fun at the verbiage an elected official used.

Otherwise, I stuck with stories from my imagination which were born by observation.

Over time, I made a move from the urban area to the rural. My trusty dog Bailey came with me and soon Bambaloo joined to create a new team of three.

It was at that point, the quietness of a new world, new people, and the antics of Bailey & Bambaloo a wild and wacky duo, did writing become fun and have purpose.

My first book which changed titles numerous times wound up being called: Rescued Finding Unconditional Love.

I was worried about selling so many copies, the thought of losing my Social Security consumed me.

That thought and others will be addressed later in the blog on the reality of being a Self-Published Author.