the accidental writer

I was a professional mom for 37 years, and now I am morphing into the grandma who writes and loves books! Yikes – grandmother!

In my daily, I struggle to find time to read, but love basking in words. Now, finally, I am part (and dare I say pseudo-moderator, what a joke!) of a book club with my besties, something I have wanted to be involved in for forever, born in the pandemic and now growing into a ritual of continued friendship and love of learning.

Despite my new book club harbor, it never fails, no matter what I manage to read (best sellers, editor’s picks, celebrity choices, etc), I always end up having read the wrong book, or rather, the one not deemed appropriate for the masses. I’ll find myself in a group answering, “Nope, haven’t read that one,” way too often. It seems as if I’m the unreader. I like to read from my gut, so maybe that’s part of that supposed problem.

I crave quiet creative moments to write, eking them out when I can or scribbling words onto napkins or into iPhone notes when inspiration comes yelling. Turns out, every second counts and every word matters, and now I am in the thick of having a book published, and another (hopefully!) in the crock pot.

I’d love to be inspirational and say something like “follow your dreams,” but that’s not really me. I’d much rather see you listen to your heart, and spend your time hearing it.