scribblesAs expected, when the chapters from my first memoir, My Life in a Tutu, came back from the publisher, red hash marks covered the pages. Forlorn, I readied myself for hours, if not days, of re-writes.

My writing teacher, Sheila Ellison, once told me that creating the content for a book takes only 30% of an author’s time. The other 70% is saved for all the paragraphs that must be thrown away so new ones can find their way to the pages of the script.

But luckily for me, as I began to read my editors notes, I was astonished to see they were just line changes; punctuations, grammar, and syntax. All the stuff I flunked in English class so long ago. All I had to do was review what she fixed, and if liked, with a quick click to the “accept all” tag on track changes, out popped a beautifully transcribed copy. My book is on track for publication next year with BQB Publishers.

Writing is a very personal endeavor, especially if the main character is you. It’s one thing to have a fictitious woman criticized by the world at large, but when it’s you they’re tearing apart, that definitely stings. But, despite the fact I keep myself open for nasty reviews, I continue to write in memoir.

When I look at my life, I have so many stories to tell; some funny, some sad and tragic, and some unbelievable. Why make up stuff when my own life has been so fascinating. But the truth is there’s nothing special about me. We all have a story to tell. You just need to take a moment and view it through a writer’s eye.

So, if you read my musings, I want you to take a moment and think of similar situations in your life. Better yet, think of something that far surpasses anything I have to say. Then, jot it down on paper. Who knows, one day you might be a published author too. Never in my wildest dream could I have imagined I’d be where I am today.