Personal Perks of Getting Published

A death and birth: These were the circumstances that sparked the desire to write, to leave a legacy - have a voice.

Muted was a good way to describe the feeling, as if my lips were moving but no words were spoken. Then subtly, I heard a whisper. It meant that there was hope.

That whisper gave way to a powerful voice: Papa in the Sky. It seemed the simplest way to link my children to my late father. Perhaps it was my own inner child, the one who wanted to make sense of why things happen - of why things change which led me to create The Caterpillar that Wouldn't Change, a story about acceptance, and having "Wanna." Having or creating this "Wanna" was the motivator that lulled me through the tides of motherhood, then later, the darkness of betrayal and divorce. Other stories came to life during those strenuous periods, as a way to turn utter nonsense on its side: The Really Jealous Jimmy Crab and Irregular Joe, which I wrote for my son.

My words were my "Purple Crayon". I was led by them, never knowing where they would take me until I got there. In so many ways, this is a metaphor for how I choose to live my life.

Breathing life into my stories, the process of having each one illustrated and published gave me a greater sense of purpose and a way out of the vortex where I once existed. Lighthearted stories like Massimo's Meatballs and The Pizza Man and the Parrots came alive during those times. For me the dry ink was the beginning of everything that ended: the death of my father, my marriage, and my family as I knew it. But it was the birth of a humbled me.

I've learned that nothing is ever really that bad if one can give it a voice. My latest release, Un-Identical twins is a testament to that. The greater truth is to never give up. As is with hindsight, one can only see the unraveling of success clearly upon reflection. It seems we never really recognize it when we're in it. I feel I owe heartfelt gratitude to my children, the universe, my editor, illustrators, publisher, friends and readers by acknowledging them. I also owe gratitude to the torment that led me to seek solace in the optimistic words that have become my books.

I have fortune, not by way of celebrity or money but from all of the good that has come into my life as a result of getting published. I am grateful that I am no longer slumped by the weight of a bad marriage, or the bitterness of dishonesty. Rather, I am fulfilled by the pride of accomplishment, thrilled and motivated by the opportunity of being heard, understood, accepted and loved. Through telling stories, I've discovered my own happy ending, which according to me, is only the beginning.