The Journal

I don't often buy things for myself. Times are tough and I Don't have money to splurge on trinkets. However today, while picking out the books I shall be reading during my first semester at Eastern,  I spotted a beautiful leather bound journal sitting on the shelf at the back of the bookstore It smelled of cowhide and fresh paper. The edge of each crisp page was covered in gold foil and as I flipped through the empty pages.... I imagined the stories I could write to bring them to life. I couldn't resist and I smiled as I placed the little book upon the counter alongside Shakespeare's, King Lear and  Kipling's, The Man Who Would Be King.  The clerk looked at me, winked and said "so are you the next big writer to grace our shelves? " I looked at her smiled..... and said " I am....I am indeed. "

 I am a fifty three year old woman attempting to chase one last dream. I am on a journey that I began thirty six years ago as a graduating high school senior. At the urging of many of my teachers, friends and family, who had always described me as a talented and thoughtful writer,  I decided to pursue a career in Journalism.I applied and was accepted at CMU, otherwise know as Michigan's number one "party" school.  Growing up in a very small town had not prepared me for the vast experiences and temptations of campus life, in a booming college town. My attention was easily drawn away from my books as I focused more intently on the social life of a dorm dweller. My common sense guided me through the first few years as I successfully bounced my way through the "gravy" classes. Eventually, however, I crashed and burned when I was forced to face a semester filled with all of the courses I had artfully avoided so far. I basically flunked out of college and got trapped in menial paying management jobs until I opened my first nightclub almost twenty years ago. I still own that club and I have bought and sold several others through the years. For most intensive purposes, I have led an interesting life. I have seen and done things that many people  could not even imagine. There are days though, when I am asked about my biggest regret. I don't have to stop and think. It's there in the front of my mind, at the tip of my tongue and the top of my list. My biggest regret was the sudden, unexpected death of my writing career.

Three years ago, facing a mid-life crisis of sorts, I found it necessary to make some drastic changes in my life. I stopped drinking, lost over one hundred pounds and decided to go back to school. I took classes at Baker college in the Human services program for two years and then, for fun, I signed up for a creative writing class. That single class and it's passionate instructor, ignited something inside of me. It forced me to stop and realize what was missing in my life. So here I am, about to enter Eastern Michigan's  Creative Writing program. I have very little formal training to boast about. I do however, have heart and talent.  I have also been blessed with an amazing life filled with incredible experiences and very unique people. I have celebrated life at the top and struggled through hardships you can not even begin to imagine. I have a story to tell. It begins right here, right now. I am a writer.