“As with so many writers, my aspirations surfaced at an early age. Putting pencil to paper, I spent happy hours in my childhood drafting short stories, laboring over entries in my diaries, intently studying life as it unfolded and transferring my observations to the written page. Nothing was boring; everything was of great significance in my young mind! In my closet, a cardboard box held my treasures–my writings–and not a single work of art (to my mind) was ever thrown away. When I left home, my work went with me, but not just a single cardboard box, by then three cardboard boxes.

My first recognition as a writer came in eighth grade–first place in an essay contest for the American Legion Award. I recall using many, many, many adjectives (which, as I was later to learn in my adult writings, is taboo)! In my first year of undergraduate studies, entering a poetry contest with a work titled Korihor, the Anti-Christ, a social commentary on religion, I won first place and publication of my work in a local magazine. I went on to write a collection of poems titled ‘Mother May I’ which was published two years later.

As a senior in college, I spent a year at the University of Grenoble (France). At the end of the term, I travelled throughout Western Europe and the UK. As I wandered, my notebooks grew–grist for later articles for travel magazines.

Upon marrying, I had three beautiful daughters in rapid succession, and my writing life was on a sabbatical. I raised my children, ran a home business, and for many years was content. However, as my family began to spread their wings, I found myself yearning to write again. From the attic, down came my cardboard boxes laden with the produce of my young years as a child and then early adulthood.

After retiring at a fairly early age, I heard of an excellent writing program–the Stonecoast MFA in Creative Writing at the University of Southern Maine. After months of weighing the idea of applying over and over in my mind, intimidated by my age, my lack of formal writing skills, every negative I could think of as a reason not to attempt it, I took a leap of faith. I sent in a sample of my writing accompanying an application, and waited. Every day I hurried to the mailbox a bundle of nerves. Would today be the day that would change my life? And finally the response came. I was in. Breathless and exhilarated, I was charged with energy.

My semesters at Stonecoast were golden. My work was critiqued by mentors who were well-established authors. Students also took part in the critiquing, guided by the mentors, and I learned how to really listen, to “take it on the chin” occasionally to improve my work. The workshops were challenging, but with each one I completed successfully, my confidence grew. It was an experience of a lifetime. I was immersed in the writer’s world and I thrived on it.”