Starting over requires moving on. Perspective determines how you shape change, no matter the decade. — One hundred and five pounds of trembling flesh and blood. That was me, in 1982. My skin felt the eyes locked on me. Hundreds of eyes watching with high expectations. Hundreds of ears waiting to hear what I had to say. The red tassel dangling on the right side of…

How to see the silver lining under the heavy coat of rejection. — I have received rejection emails from six literary agents, and your sympathy is not requested. I’m thrilled to have been notified of six agents’ inability to connect with my writing and their complete lack of confidence in being able to sell my manuscript to a publisher. I know my elation…

How my employer and I had a lot to learn about my debilitating illness. Knowledge is worth sharing. — Driving home from work, I knew relief from my migraine medicine was waiting for me inside my house, I just needed to get there. My eyes saw an empty space in the lane to my left, but I knew I was being deceived. …

Understanding the nature of migraine disease. Living life with a chronic illness. — Migraine has traveled with me through life for nearly six decades. I have never thought of migraine as a welcome companion, but it is as much a part of me as the color of my hair and the freckles on my skin. My migraines have seen various behavioral configurations as…

But here’s what you can do to increase your chances — My 46,000-word manuscript contains only one mild curse word, is bursting with uncool grammatical correctness, does not portray me as a victim, and is not littered with name droppings (except for the time I met Colonel Sanders). In short, my book idea is totally effed. After weeks of researching, writing…

A trial-and-error process on the road to writing a book during a slight mid-life crisis. — I’m about to try something that scares the hell out of me. I’m frightened of the potential for failure, and I’m frightened of the possible repercussions of success. With over fifty-plus years of living under my belt, I’m familiar with many proverbial forks in the road. The forks don’t surprise…

The birth of clarity hides in the wake of death. Life and death are two sides of the same coin. — My subconscious searched for a solution, or at least a welcome distraction. Compelled to glance up, I saw her sitting dead center in the bedroom doorway, gazing with solemn interest at the scene unfolding in the room. …

If only uniting the world were as simple as two sentences. If only a childhood diversion were enough to silence the noise. If only … — Cat’s fur to make kitten britches. Do you want a pair? Two little sentences equivalent to a conversational slap in the face. A lingual jolt to snap you out of your train of thought. Pulled from the dusty back section of my filing cabinet of memories, my mind opens a…

Crisis is not the time for irrational reactionism. The generations before us understood the practical application of being in this together. — The clock’s second-hand kept ticking with a steady, unaltering rhythm. Heart rates increased with each tinge of panic infiltrating the bloodstream. All the while, time marched on with no interest in current events. Well after midnight, our household was awakened. Each of us grabbed by the collar and yanked out…