With a Candle to Light the Way: Author Joyce Mandeville

 “Books let me go anywhere I wanted.” 

In Joyce Mandeville’s novel A Twist of Light, two young girls who find their alcoholic mother dead decide to bury her and leave town before the authorities find out and possibly separate them.  By her makeshift grave on the bank of the Kings River in California, beneath a canopy of cottonwoods where the sisters feel their departed mother will stay safe and out of trouble, they stage an impromptu funeral.

The elder, less creative Ellie suggests a prosaic tune, a prayer, or a list of their mother’s few accomplishments to mark the solemn occasion, while the brilliant Lizzy, who’d have preferred a fiery Viking farewell, disappointedly recalls how she had interred dead birds and road kill with more flair and feeling, with song and interpretive dance. In the end, they say a simple goodbye and acknowledge that at least now they have and can take care of one another, a job their mother did poorly.

How we take care of one another – through the ties that bind and occasionally chafe – while remaining true to our inner callings and creative natures are threads that run through much of Mandeville’s work. Tall and vibrant, with a ready smile and an insightful wit that matches the frequent humor – sometimes gritty and black – found in her novels, the East Hardwick resident is the author of three published novels and many short stories. 

This year, as Little, Brown brings out e-book versions of A Twist of Light, Careful Mistakes, and Glory Days, Mandeville, a daily hiker, devoted Golden Retriever owner, and doting grandmother to two precocious girls, has returned to writing full-time. She’s now at work on a trilogy of novels set in Vermont.

    

Tell us about your background.

I was born in Fresno California to a family that was distinctly non-bookish.  My father was the son of Swedish immigrants who grew grapes and he stayed in the wine biz for his whole career.  My mother's family, from what I can gather, seemed to be something like professional pioneers.  They always seemed to be amongst the first families to settle an area.  Although my mother's family had several generations of doctors in it, by the time my mother came along, two generations of divorces, including that of her parents, had plunged them into something very like genteel poverty.

My parents had what my mother considered to be a great romance and that was a nice thing to grow up in, a great romance.  We didn't live in a child-centered home, which was perfect for me.  I've always liked to be a little below the radar anyway.

My love of books: I can still remember the first story hour at the library I ever went to.  I was four and the book was Bartholomew something or other and I was hooked.  Later that day, to my utter delight, I picked out the word 'the' while my father was reading his newspaper and I thought I had it all.  As it turned out, I did.  I learned to read very quickly and books became and remained, the center my life.

They showed me worlds far beyond the dusty valley I'd always felt stuck in and the books let me go anywhere I wanted.  As a small child, it took me a few years to understand that everything I read wasn't true so I developed an odd overview of life that I think has served me well.  I've never given a lot of energy to what's real and what isn't.

I married very young to a lovely man who is still my husband and we had two children.  We moved around a bit between California and New York for his work and in the early 90's we moved to the Sussex area of England. 

I've always been an Anglophile so I was thrilled, but it turned out to be excellent for my career as well.  I'd written a book for which I hadn't been able to find an agent or publisher in the States, but in England, I suppose because in the first time in my life I was exotic and foreign, I had several offers of representation and Little, Brown UK gave me a three-book deal almost immediately.

Living abroad isn't always easy, but I think it gave us, and certainly our two children, who were teenagers by this time, a world view that has enriched out lives.

My husband had been saying for years that when it was time to go back to the States, the choice would be mine.  There had never been any doubt in my mind about where I wanted to land and that landing place would be Vermont.  I'd never been here, but something in me knew this was the place.

When we left England, all our worldly goods were on a container ship and we had three weeks to figure out where those worldly goods were going to go.  Our daughter had returned to the States a few months before us and was working as a reporter for the Hardwick Gazette, so that was the first place we looked.  We found a fairly beat up Victorian house in East Hardwick, but it was a divorce situation so the owners were already packed and ready to move out.

That beat up Victorian has become a wonderful home for us and we've never regretted our move here. 

You’ve been writing for more than twenty years, but you’ve also enjoyed success as an interior designer and manager of an art gallery.   Now you’re writing full time. Do you have a daily writing routine?

I do.  I start every morning with a hike or a snowshoe with my dog.  Once we get back home I get nicely dressed (I'm much vainer that I should be) and I go upstairs to my office with a cup of licorice tea and light the candles.  My office is a small bedroom with almost no natural light, which is perfect for my needs.  All the light is at the computer with a little bit of glow from the candles.  It helps to focus my mind.

Oh, and then I play backgammon on-line for a game or two.  I only write on the upstairs computer because it has a big screen and an excellent keyboard.  I never write longhand since I can't read my own writing and I'm a terrible speller.  If it weren't for spell-check I'd be asking if you wanted fries with that.

I'm usually done by noon unless I'm doing heavy editing.  The actual process of fresh writing rarely goes beyond about two hours.  There are rare occasions where I'm able to get into some sort of head space and words just rush onto the screen, but those days are few and far between.  If the morning has been productive, I will give myself a few hours and then read what I've written that morning later in the day to see it I was indeed productive. I try to think about the next days writing just before I fall asleep.  I don't know if this is really effective, but I think it might somehow prime my subconscious.

Having had the pleasure of being a guest in your home and at your table, I can attest to how the beauty of place and the comforts of family life show themselves in both your life and your writing.   Are you conscious of creating a sensual world for your readers?

That's an interesting question.  I'm really more interested in what's inside my characters than where they are standing.  Very often I have to go back to make the physical surroundings clearer, but that's because when I'm writing I've got such clear pictures in my mind that I sometimes forget that this is all going on just in my head.

As to a sense of place, I'm always very aware of how a place can shape a character and a story.  Since I'm more attracted to the small places in the world, that's where my stories take place.  I don't believe I've ever set a story in a city or even a good-sized town.  I love the intimacy of living in a small town and really getting to know people and as a writer I find it easier to form characters and stories in these small settings.

Your novels, while rich and multilayered, often showcase female characters struggling through difficult domestic situations, and you have attracted many admiring male readers. What do you think of the label “women’s fiction”? Have you avoided falling under it?

I dislike the term, because I find it demeaning in our still chauvinistic society.  I love women who love to read and they deserve wonderful things to read.  My issue is that within the industry there is often a formula that seems to define women's fiction. There are clear guidelines that some publishers expect for women's fiction as to point of view, length of the book, at what point in the story the main character is introduced, at what point the conflict comes in and what sort of ending is required.  I don't believe that the people I have in mind when I write are looking for a formula to play out.  Years ago I tried writing to some of these constraints and after a week or so I hit the delete button and proceeded to write something I could be proud of.  Since I don't have an Adam's apple, I don't think I can completely escape the 'Women's Fiction' label, but I certainly don't think about it while I'm working.

Currently I'm published under Little, Brown's Sphere, which is their mainstream fiction imprint.  I'm still not sure how these categories are determined by editors, but I'm assuming this means that my work will be attractive to a more diverse audience.

My hope is that there will always be good fiction for people of to read and good publishers who are willing to take risks to make this happen.

The paranormal plays a key role in your work as well.   Why is that?

Well, I've been seeing things out of the corner of my eyes for as long as I can recall.  I've lived in a haunted house, which I found to be very interesting and not really scary at all.  I've had a letter fall on my head that had been written by a late, great friend, who I had just been thinking about.  When I was a little kid I knew if my mother was sad before I walked in the door.  If I ignore these things in my work, I'm not giving my readers all they deserve.  I'm not going to write some nasty vampire thing, but I want readers to consider a reality beyond the conventional.

I've found it useful for my characters to question their five senses and find an alternate explanation.  I've also found that after the second glass of wine around the table at dinner parties, most of the people there will admit to an experience that could be considered paranormal.  I believe it's part of the human experience, but I try to keep it subtle in my work.  I don't have spooks jumping out of the closet, but I do have a child who can sometimes read auras.  I have two children who think they've seen the Virgin Mary, but there are no ghouls.

Your books are also laced with humor, some of it quite dark, with comedy often underscoring the tragic.

I love to laugh and I can find humor in some very unlikely places, but I think most people can when they feel free to do so. I think my favorite movie scene ever is in Monty Python's The Life of Brian, the crucifixion scene.  The one where Brian starts singing 'Always Look on the Bright Side of Life'?   First Brian starts singing and moving his nailed feet to the music and then all the other men on crosses join in.  It sums up my most closely held belief that isn't what happens to you, it's how you deal with it.

Tell us a bit about your current work, your Vermont trilogy.

I've got the first two of the trilogy completed.  The Luck of Opposites and Summerland are not yet available, but I hope my publisher, Little Brown, will pick them up.  The Luck of Opposites is set in a tiny village in the NEK in the 1950's, back when there were just a handful of paved roads.  Summerland is about a family from Connecticut who have had a camp on Lake Champlain for over a hundred years.  It's a family saga set in the 1960's with some strong elements of magic realism.

 I'm working on the Madness of Angels, also set in Vermont and roughly based on the Spiritualist shows that the Eddy brothers used to put on about 150 years ago in Chittenden.  I'm going over to the Lily Dale Spiritualist colony in New York later this month for research.

I'm quite certain I will continue to write about Vermont, loving the state and its people as I do, but this will complete the Vermont trilogy.  I've been reading a lot about transgender people lately, and I've got an idea about Queen Elizabeth I.  Sometimes I think there are just too many ideas.

Joyce Mandeville's three novels have been recently released as e-books by Little, Brown.

Wall Street crashed in far away New York, the Midwest is swirling with dust, and nobody has bothered with painting houses or planting flowers for at least three years. Then Glory and her best friend Pammy see something in the woods, and people start talking about miracles and the Virgin Mary.  Soon the whole town seems to catch Mary fever, but the bad days aren't over yet.

From green and pleasant Sussex, Liz slowly reveals the story of her early life as a 'ditch-bank Okie Viking' and her struggle to overcome the mayhem and murder that marred her childhood.  The story unfolds as young Lizzy and the adult Liz share the tale of of one woman's life and death.

Jilly, a 40-something widow, finds herself facing a barrage of crises: she is going to be visited by a mother-in-law from  hell, while her beloved father, a retired bishop, is terminally ill and she is sitting his death watch.  Then on the day she rushes off to collect her college-age daughter Chloe from the airport, the bishop dies and -bang- Chloe reveals she's pregnant.

This column appears in the August 2014 issue of The North Star Monthly.  Check out their site:

http://www.northstarmonthly.com

Ann Sheybani: A Woman in Motion

     You can’t miss her. And you’ll struggle to keep up.

     The Gortex-clad marathoner charging ahead, the striking blonde in a strapless gown cutting through the crowd at the Barristers’ Ball, Ann Sheybani leads something of a charmed life, and she knows it.  And while she’s grateful for all she has, she’s run a long, challenging path to get there.

     Married for seven years to Walt Hampton, an attorney, executive coach, speaker, writer, and fellow “adventurer,” Ann is the founder of Starting Over, which offers personal coaching and programs for women in transition.  When they met, both were single parents juggling the care and feeding of teenagers, demanding careers, as well as a desire to be and do more.  In each other, you could say, they found on Match.com their very best match.

     They honeymooned in Ireland and fell in love with the quiet, the pace of life, and the beauty of the landscape.  They now divide their time between Canton, CT, and a seaside home in Castletownshend in County Cork, where most of their neighbors get around on four hooves.  But Vermont and New Hampshire are frequent, favorite playgrounds for running and climbing getaways; two of their children reside in the Green Mountain state, and another attends Lyndon State College.

     Walt and Ann are powerful examples of building a life you love: the essence of their coaching. Together they’ve climbed Denali, Aconcagua, and Kilimanjaro; they sail and tango and scuba dive as a team. Both have forged successful businesses helping others to reach their personal “summits” and goals.

    Ann, who holds a Masters in Creative Writing and Literature from Harvard, speaks most personally and persuasively to women seeking change. In her writing and presentations, she refers often to staying “one step ahead” on the gravel road of life, of learning from past experiences and from the stories of those who’ve blazed the trail ahead. Given her devotion to daily, life-affirming running, her use of that metaphor is truly well earned.

To an outsider, you look like a woman “on top of the world” in more ways than one. But the route you took held plenty of obstacles.  Tell us about where you were in your life when you decided to start running, and what benefits you discovered right off. 

      Once upon a time I was an aimless girl who twisted herself into a little pretzel to win over a man. He was a decent man, with his own complexes and flaws, who led me down the primrose path into the Islamic Republic of Iran. This did not go well.

     Five years later, and a whole lot smarter, I returned to the United States with two young children to start life over. At the age of 34, I had to figure out who I was, and what I wanted. I had to stop running from my self.

     I was divorced, fat, unemployed and scared because I had no idea which step I needed to take next. I clung to my kids like a hobo to a ham sandwich because being a Mom was the only thing in my life that give me a sense of purpose. I hung around other divorced women who only knew how to complain. They clung to the past and refused to move on.

     Without realizing it at the time, I began the journey back to myself with running.  What started as a weight loss gimmick—I’d packed on 20 lbs.— evolved into a spiritual transformation. Running gave me, for the very first time, confidence, pride, space, and the ability to cope. Running became a me thing; a time to listen to the wind, the slap of my feet, the sound of my breath. I could hear my own voice.

     After a few years I discovered marathon running, and with that, the joy of the job well done. I learned how to handle pain and give an improbable effort, and to do it all alone. For the first time in my life, I began to feel whole. I realized that one step at a time was all that was needed. That I didn’t have to know how I would do it, I just needed to start. And to carry on.  Running was what the author George Sheehan described as my “proving ground.”

       Through running, I finally figured out what I couldn’t when I was young: to be an adult, a whole integral person, we have to make mistakes, get off course, endure discomfort, and doubt ourselves. We have to endure. The knowledge that we can reach a finish line despite the setbacks is what puts the strut in our step.

And now? What’s your running routine? What long-term benefits have you enjoyed?

     Five mornings a week, Walt and I get up at the crack of dawn and head out the door.  On weekdays we run about six miles.  On Saturdays, we run long, which is a habit we formed when training for marathons and ultra-marathons.  Marathons, by the way, are all 26.2 miles long.  Ultra marathons can range from 50 k (32 miles) to over 100 miles, depending on the race. We run early to beat the summer heat, and to benefit from a set routine.  Decide once, and you don’t have to go through the should-I-or-shouldn’t-I game each and every morning. Start down that path, and you’ll never go out. It’s far easier to remain in bed.

     Walt is the perfect running partner. For miles we say nothing. We get lost in our own heads.  Sometimes we talk about the day, or hash out our problems.  Sometimes we deconstruct all of Western literature. Because we share the ritual, our bond is constantly tightened.

     And while that's a lovely byproduct, running, for me, is about so much more:  Running allows me to be selfish.  Other people’s needs--from 6AM to 7, anyway--get tragically ignored. I get to think about what I want to think about, or I get to blank out and just breathe. I am at no one’s beck and call.

     As an anxious sort, running allows me to expend nervous energy, to calm the hell down.  Leave it for a few days and I become a tiger pacing its cage. Without the relief valve, and the endorphins, I’d likely self-medicate with something far less beneficial, like half a box of Dunkin Donuts.  Oh yes, running helps me manage my weight. It’s not carte blanche to eat whatever I want, but it sure helps.

     And probably most importantly, running put that strut in my step all those years ago.  That confidence, something I never had when I was young, never went away after my first marathon.  I earned my red Super Power cape, and I’ve never taken it off. This confidence has changed everything about my life.

You mentioned how your commitment to running provided a “spiritual transformation” as well as physical.

     I used to say I was about as spiritual as an Egg McMuffin. But I have become deeply aware of a bigger force at work in our lives. And I feel a need for a bigger connection; that was something I missed in my early years. I’m not sure what that looks like yet. But I do know that I can’t control it all.

With your husband, you’ve climbed several major peaks and run ultra-marathons. Clearly you push one another to meet greater and greater goals. I’m curious if you are openly competitive with one another. What happens when one of you reaches a goal the other cannot?

     Years ago, when I was looking for a partner on Match, I put up a profile describing who I really was and what I was looking for in a man.  I thought of it as a sort of buyer beware disclaimer. As a high-achiever, an athlete, a writer, and a dyed-in-the-wool nut job, I was overjoyed when I met a man skewed much the same way.

     At a certain point in one’s life, it pays off in dividends to know what you need, and what motivates you to perform. For both Walt and I, friendly competition has been a catalyst for producing results. As juvenile as it may be, we often challenge each other with outrageous trash talk: Which one of us will finish the race first? Who will complete the book and publish before the other? What horrible things would losing to the other prove?   

     Silly or not, you’d be surprised how hot the flame gets under one’s backside, how much the need to put the other in his or her place can inspire action.

     And neither of us likes to lose.  Neither of us likes to feel we haven’t lived up to expectations, or done our best. In other words, friendly competition is a double-edged sword.

     There comes a point, particularly when important projects have not gone as hoped—i.e. Walt has finished the VT 50 while I lay in a heap, weeping, at mile 34—when it pays to drop the taunting and offer the other solace and hope.  These are the times to sit down together and laugh at the egos involved.

     The interesting thing about one of us “winning,” the other “failing” is that you can usually see why events shook out the way they did. One of us—namely Walt— is usually more willing than the other—that would be me— to put in the time and energy to create the result. Sometimes, it’s just so much easier to acknowledge this fact instead of licking your wounds

You switched course in your 40s: you went back to school, founded a writing workshop, and launched a career as a personal coach, having studied with well-know motivational author and speaker Tony Robbins. What exactly does a personal coach do?

     People spend time with me.  We talk, either on the phone or in person. Sometimes we talk for just an hour or two.  Sometimes we talk for an hour every other week for a year or more.

      During this time I listen deeply to what is said, and what is not said. I point out what they’re not seeing (or can’t see). We talk about the things they’re struggling with—relationships, business, parenting, the creative life—and we deep dive into what they really want, what they’re “doing it all” for. 

     I help them decide what they really want by asking powerful questions.  Then I shut up long enough for them to work it out. And I tell my clients what no one else would dare to say. It’s a delicate balance.

     Once we determine where the gap lies between how things are and how they’d like them to be, we work together to come up with an action plan consisting of specific, realistic steps. Because change can be scary, I remind them why they’re doing it and hold them accountable to their word.

       What I actually do is help my clients see their world differently.  Because when you help someone see their world differently, their world changes. And miracles occur.

You’ve participated in many seminars with Robbins, including his Mastery University and Unleash the Power programs. Robbins – who coaches on setting “SMART” goals that are “specific, measurable, actionable, realistic, and time sensitive” -- has his students walk barefoot across a patch of smoldering coals to bolster self-confidence. Do you urge your clients to get off the couch, set physical goals, as they tackle career or personal challenges?

     Because running switched everything up for me, I used to believe that by accomplishing an audacious physical goal, life would dramatically improve for everyone else on the planet if they did the same. I’ve been a firm believer that, if you want self-esteem, you have to earn it the old fashioned way, by doing something big—like running a marathon—to impress your self.

     And while I’ll always cling to these notions to some extent, I’ve come to realize, having worked with lots of people, that accomplishing something huge isn’t always the fix to what ails an individual. Sometimes the opposite is true.  Sometimes people have to release those god-awful expectations they have of themselves and find some inner peace.

     Because I’ve been very open about the challenges I’ve faced as the adult child of an alcoholic, I attract, among others, a lot of ACOA’s. After all, we learn best from people who understand our demons, who’ve dealt with the very same issues, most of them involving boundaries.

     Some of my clients could fill an entire showroom with their blue ribbons, medals, and trophies.  Thanks to their dysfunctional upbringing, they’ve accomplished more than ten Olympians put together, and to them, it’s still not enough. They’re still not enough.

     I want to tell you about a young woman named Kristina.  A few years back, she approached me for coaching because, unhappy and overwhelmed, she suspected that she was having some of the issues I’ve referenced.

    A top performer at so multiple levels, Kristina was working at a job she despised.  She felt trapped by an unscrupulous boss, and she couldn’t figure out how to set herself free without displeasing this jerk.

     This is what happens when you’re raised without boundaries. You don’t realize that it’s your j-o-b to take care of your self, not sacrifice your well-being because someone else whines. You don’t learn that healthy boundaries are all about knowing what is yours, and what belongs to other people. What is your responsibility, and what is theirs.

     Sometimes all we need to let go of crazy is to hear this truth. Sometimes, all we need is the reality check that we’re not selfish, or mean, or immature.

     Since that time Kristina has released herself, and turned her passion and serious talent into an exciting business. A sponsored athlete, ultra-marathoner, and personal trainer, she now offers group running lessons, customized training plans for intermediate to advanced runners, and women’s trail running camps through her White Mountain Running Company.

You say you are “obsessed with facing down fear.” Can you speak to how fear can keep some of us, especially women used to catering to the needs of others, from discovering what we want out of life and living our dreams?

     I talk to a lot of women’s groups about the importance of reconnecting with our dreams and desires.  Because, as nurturers, we tend to forget what gives us pleasure.  We’re so busy taking care of everyone else—seeing that our kids, partners, bosses, and friends get their needs met—that we forget about ourselves. (Yes, men are often guilty of this, too.) And I find that it’s universally embarrassing to admit that you don’t have the faintest clue what rocks your world. And yet the forgetting thing is so common.

     Society rewards us (women) for being nurturers, which confuses us when we want to do something for ourselves instead of others. When we forget who we are and what we want, we have to find our identities again, or reinvent them, and this can be hard.

     Finding an identity and a focus is tough. I know women who’ve stayed in bad marriages, and this includes me, because the idea of going out on one’s own, of finding the right path (as if there’s only one), of having no one else to blame when you come up short, feels far more uncomfortable. The journey required looks way too daunting. But at some point we have to stop running away from our selves. We have to figure out who we are, and what we want

     I do believe that you can have a lot more.  There are some really valuable tricks of the trade when it comes to having it all—drawing boundaries, saying no, asking for help, delegating, repurposing, drop kicking perfectionism, and so on, and so forth.  (I coach on this topic.) When you don’t do these things, you sabotage yourself.

Tell us about East Hill Writers’ Workshops, which you founded with fellow writers Anne Batterson and Sherry Horton. 

     About four years ago, Anne, Sherry, and I were asked to talk to Tunxis University students about the writing process. We had such a blast that we decided to start a writers’ workshop of our own. We opened shop, put up posters, and soon had ten students for our first workshop. We worked with blossoming writers who wanted to start novels, kids' books, and memoirs. Some of these writers have stayed with us all these years, and many have seen publication of books and stories.

    

     We've grown so much, we hired another instructor. This spring we’re offering one workshop for beginning writers; another for intermediate: and an intensive, limited-enrollment revision workshop.  And we’re still having a blast!

Who are your favorite authors?

     Anne Lamott, author of Bird by Bird. Mary Karr, who wrote the memoir, The Liar’s Club. David Sedaris makes me laugh my ass off. And Cormac McCarthy, for the sheer beauty of the writing.

While you’re at work on a memoir -- A Lost Girl’s Guide to Iran, which will appear next year -- you are best known for your blog, Things Mama Never Taught Me.  Much of your writing is deeply personal and provocative; some of it seems almost intended to shock. Is there a cost for being so forthright?

     You’ll discover, if you haven’t already, that a lot of us who choose to write memoir come from dysfunctional families.  We’re taught from childhood not to reveal our family secrets.  We’re told, “Don’t air dirty laundry.”  We’re discouraged from telling the truth even amongst family members. Even to ourselves!

     I believe that we’re as sick as our secrets. I didn’t want to be sick anymore.

     I believe that in order to get what we want most in life—connection with others—we have to have the courage to tell the truth, regardless of who will disapprove. We have to allow ourselves to be vulnerable.  We have to risk opening ourselves up to criticism.

     To own your own opinions, your own story, is to set yourself free.

     Everything changed in my life when I stopped hiding who I really am/was. The world opened up and I grew to approve of myself, even though I sometimes put others off.

     Putting yourself out there is the best exercise there is for standing in your own power. And there are consequences to writing about yourself and others. Don’t kid yourself.

      Your kids, your parents, your cousins, some of your friends, are not going to like what you have to say.  And that’s OK.

     My mom read something I wrote years ago and got her nose out of joint. She made the decision not to read my work; which freed me up. But, machismo aside, it doesn’t make me feel good to know she disapproves.

     More importantly, I believe my honesty hurt my kids. I write about very adult topics, about my relationship with their dead father, and some of the things I've revealed have been far too much for them to take.  I believe the revelation that their Muslim father took a second wife while he was married to me changed the course of my daughter’s life In particular.

     Pleased with my ability to write about the painful subject, I showed my daughter the story, somehow forgetting that she'd be reading something awful she didn't know about her dead father.  For a long time she was hurt and angry with her dad, a man who had always made her feel adored and protected, because he'd hurt me, a woman he'd deeply loved.

     And I believe--and really, what do I know--that in order to forgive him the act, she embraced the one thing that had allowed him to justify his actions, the practice of Islam. Months after reading my story, my daughter began praying five times a day; fasting during the holy months; and eschewing dating, drinking and premarital sex. To feel safe in a world she could no longer trust, she became very rigid. So, as you can see, there are some things I wish I could take back.  Sometimes there is a big cost.

    Over the years, I’ve had a wonderful outpouring of support and love from readers.  I learned that what I had to say—as hard as much of it was for me to do so—made a positive difference in their lives. 

     For this reason alone I will often tell my writing students this: Your REAL audience is desperately waiting for you to put into words what they are feeling, what they are yearning to hear. They are waiting for you.

This column appears in the June 2014 issue of The North Star Monthly.  Visit their site:

http://www.northstarmonthly.com