Someone asked me how I started writing. It all began in the fourth grade. As a language assignment, I wrote a poem about a hippopotamus. I don't remember the poem, but I do remember how the teacher bragged on it. After that, I wrote lots of poems.

The Memphis Commercial Appeal had a children's page and I submitted an original story for the Captain Jerry section. It was published much to my delight. I have a letter somewhere in an album from Captain Jerry encouraging me to continue writing because I had a "knack" for it.

When I was a young teen, the local newspaper ran a column called, "I Spy." Readers could summit something amusing that they had seen. I have an eye for the ironic and had several little essays accepted.

When I was newly married, I started a novel about a preacher's family but never finished it. My preference in reading has always been non-fiction which ultimately influenced my writing preference.

Not that I didn't write a novel. I did once. It was about two ten-year-old boys. One, a foster child, contracted HIV from an abusive father. When this became known, the Christian family who had taken him in, were forced to make hard decisions. The couple's only son and the foster boy were determined to stay together. I cried while writing the book and cried even harder when I recently re-read it. Fiction so often reflects life's cruel realities.

Writing a novel isn't the hardest part; marketing it is. I thought it was a good book though it started out necessarily graphic due to the subject matter. It wasn't something you'd expect a Sunday School teacher to write though I am redeemed long before the ending.

After several rejections, a company in Utah was "thrilled" with the book and wanted to publish it. They convinced me to put up $5000 to help off-set the initial expense. It was to be published ten months later. I got the routine contract and the letters explaining where the book was in the publishing process. I was even asked to give input regarding the cover which I did. There was an enthusiastic discussion of a "book tour." Unfortunately, Sugar Town, never was published. I doubt it was ever read. The company was a sham and took hundreds of suckers like me. The company was prosecuted and subsequently went bankrupt. I never saw the book published or the $5000. The manuscript is still in a box under the extra bed. I've stuck with writing columns ever since.

During the Vietnam War, I wrote a weekly column for a southern Georgia weekly. It reflected my conservative, patriotic viewpoint and frequently my religious convictions. One of the columns won the George Washing Medal of Honor Award for newspaper journalism from the Freedom Foundation. The bronze medallion, accompanied by a fading miniature American flag, now sits in the family china cabinet, a reminder of days long gone by.

Upon moving to North Georgia, I wrote a computer column for a couple of years. Then, when the cancer recurred, I stopped writing. However, just as you can't take the "teach" out of a teacher, you can't take the "write" out of a writer. Thus, this column, "Journal of a Dying Lady" was born. The name has changed to "Journal of a Living Lady" and the picture has been up-dated.

Writing is my hobby. I've never made much money at it. But that's OK. Often it is therapeutic for me and sometimes entertaining and edifying for others. Not everything of value needs to measured in dollars. In fact, most things of real value can't be measured at all… like love, liberty, and life.