JUST SIT AT THE COMPUTER, START TALKING OUT-LOUD OR TYPING YOUR THOUGHTS---AS YOU LET YOUR FINGERS TAKE DICTATION.
Start writing what comes to mind OR----open your mouth and start talking. Both ways work for me.
You can worry about putting everything
in perfect-order AFTER you get all your thoughts “on paper.” Think about sharing your happy or troubled- childhood; high school memories and events; life-changing situations; marriages-divorces- births- deaths--even lost
or found loves.
Everyone has stories---stories to make you stand-out-from-the- crowd. Talk about your life, memorable events, people, jobs, neighbors ---happy times as well as
sad times. There are endless subjects and moments to explore from your past and present.
Remember, this is your story and no one can dictate your story—but you. You know
all the details of your life; you know exactly what you want others to read inside---YOUR BOOK.
You start the writing process with blank pages and you-alone- supply the subjects, the stories,
and the words. Don't worry about sentence structure, grammar, punctuation, or editing-in-general until everything is written. For now---Just write and keep writing--- day after day---and continue to write until you have exhausted every memory.
Write until you feel totally-empty of all stories.
Before finishing my book---I sought the advice of a professional portrait-painting-friend. I needed him to answer what I considered
a valuable question: "How do you know when to put the brush down and declare the portrait-- finished?" In response, my friend said: "you'll just know. There comes a moment when you look at your project and hear the voice inside that says: "It's
over-- It's Finished."
I recall all those hours, all those days—just-writing-typing, reworking a paragraph here or a sentence there and---wondering when I'd write the final page.
Then-- without warning--it happened. Something clicked as I was re-reading the paragraph in front of me and---I suddenly-realized I was writing the book's ending. I finished the last
sentence-- waited for a second or two before clicking SAVE--then closed the computer.
Suddenly---I felt overwhelmingly-exhausted---like I'd just run a marathon. I reached-out to hug the closed
computer in my arms and began to cry. Yes, I cried for hours. My tears weren’t tears of grief or sadness or loss. Instead, my tears were relief-tears, tears of love and happiness and--they were all for ME! My tears were my applause
for finishing The Story of MY LIFE!!!!
SO....WHO hasn't read my book: THE BEAUTY QUEEN, LET NO DEED GO
UNPUBLISHED?!?!? READ IT NOW or...forever-wonder what you missed.
From the book's Beginning until its Ending....your mind will experience the Roller Coaster-Ride-of-a-Lifetime. How do
I know? Because I lived every-bit of it.
I survived what many call an "impossible" life BUT--I refused to give up or be labeled a victim. I speak frankly about being sexually-abused from childhood,
bullied and mocked as a teenager, snubbed as a new bride, even ridiculed, criticized, and dis-respected by my family-- my very-own flesh/blood.
As the author of my autobiography, I was able
to applaud my successes, my accomplishments, and directly challenge those who dared question my abilities. AND-- NOT ONCE DO I HESITATE to reveal the antics of those around me--including the ex-husband-from-Hell:
This is a sample from my book:
"He (my ex.) had a thing for secretaries...."
"Like past secretary-girlfriends,
Jack’s latest didn’t have secretarial training but the way she dressed-----short skirts and tight sweaters--- insured job security.
Remember, it was the sixties and very much a
man’s world. Unlike his flat-chested secretary from Southern Federal, Jack’s new personal secretary, his latest queen-of-typewriters and all-things-long-and-short-hand had two, lively assets. She didn’t have attractive legs and her face was
homely but, as the male majority would say, “Who the hell is looking at her face?”
Most intriguing, Our Girl-Friday didn’t shave her legs, underarms, or the curly hairs sprouting
around the tip of each asset. Don’t doubt me. The day came when I saw them up-close and very personal: