shares her story
be afraid to shoot for the moon. Even
if you miss, you will fall among the stars . . .
the beginning . . .
is funny what memories from our childhood come back to
us throughout our entire lives. I remember one of my early
memories is when I was six-years-old and somehow knew
during that time that I wanted to be a writer. I can't
remember what prompted the decision except perhaps my
mother was always writing something or other. I wanted
to write a children's book. However, it came about, I
knew and was determined that I would be exactly that.
I did write quite a bit through grade school and high
school that was graded well by my teachers, and was even
published a few times in the letters to the editor.
as it happens so many times during each individual's life,
a sudden twist or turn steers us off course from our destination,
and that happened to be in the form of a snake - Copperhead
snake, that is.
the serpent said unto the woman . . .
it didn't really speak to me, just objected highly when
I stepped on it in the middle of the night in my parents'
living room floor. It did what any normal being would
do, it turned around and bit me.
the living room inside the house. We were doing
some remodeling and somehow it had sneaked into a crack
in the wall. I was young and idealistic and just starting
out in life . . . and had no insurance. The hospital bill
seemed astronomical to me, and I felt forced to obtain
full-time employment in order to pay the bills. Nevertheless,
even though I found this experience bitter and daunting
at the time, I learned many years later that it was beneficial
to me in more ways than I could understand.
my writing took second place and then third as I was working
my way through full-time plus employment and coping with
other factors that life presented.
that glitters is not gold . . .
working, I became attracted by a shiny light, and, contrary
to the universal warning, I went towards the light . .
. the computer light, that is.
other words, the world of the computer was booming, and
I dove right in up to my headlights. It was an addiction
that I had to learn everything about, always planning
to write the great American novel someday soon. Nevertheless,
my writing was more or less of a technical nature writing
text books on computer programs, marketing material, and
company newsletters for corporations. Unfortunately, "they"
never got each other in the end of the manuscript.
took several years of this addiction, concentration and
education to realize that I had swallowed one of the biggest
hoaxes known to modern man-and-woman-kind . . . the computer
was an untrustworthy, unreliable mechanical device that
became obsolete the moment it was developed. I was never
going to become a Bill Gates and get ahead of the game.
the glitter dimmed, I still am not sorry for those years
studying the computer age and still continuing my education
in this field, but as a very low secondary field while
concentrating on my chosen field as a photojournalist.
the LORD was not in the wind . . . a still small voice
. . .
took several more years for me to be leaving the corporate
and computer world and take the steps to become a full-time
freelance writer and photographer. One of those obstacles
was in a big wind . . . no, not political but meteorological.
Or in other words, an F4 tornado that tore through the
Midwest in 2003 right through our county in eastern Kansas.
were in the house with no basement when we heard that
the tornado was heading in our direction. Scared? No,
I wasn't that smart and in fact, at one point, wanted
to go look at the amazing force of nature. I didn't believe,
of course, that a tornado would descend into a valley
where we live, but it did . . .
next moment, I was fighting to hold the door closed while
the house collapsed and twisted around us.
wasn't so much the tornado itself to live through but
the aftermath. The life I had spent years refining was
gone in a matter of seconds. Memories torn from their
roots and were shredded before my very eyes. That is the
real devastation of any natural tragedy of nature.
it did leave me with one very important discovery that
I didn't appreciate at the time . . . I could still write.
wrote a brief outline of the experience for the friends
at work who inquired after me, and several said that it
could be published. That surprised me at first, but upon
checking with the Kansas City Star, they eagerly snatched
it up and a follow-up article a year later. (These
articles are available to read by going to Writing
at this time, I still felt uneasy about leaving my comfort
area of the computer world.
meant it for evil but God meant it for good . . .
was not evil when my mother took sick with cancer; it
was just another stepping stone in life. I prepared as
best I could and left the corporate way of life temporary
. . . or so I thought.
who has undergone a loved one being sick with this disease
knows that it takes 24/7 work to provide the proper care
and support needed. Nevertheless, I decided that this
was the best time of all to work on what I had always
wanted to do . . . write and photograph the life around
started small and began submitting a freebee now and again
to a different local newspaper while sending out queries.
Soon the paper hired me as a freelancer and other national
and local magazines have accepted my work.
mother, a writer herself who has had two books of her
own published about Irish history, Helen Walsh Folsom,
recovered from her cancer, and me?
found myself with the full-time career I had always wanted
to have that I can devote my love and life to completely
and share the "Hundred
million miracles that are happening every day."