I have been writing poetry, essays, articles, and other non-fiction for 20+ yrs. Some of my work has been published in:

• Midwest Poetry Review
• SA-DE Books anthology
• various newsletters
• TPAC performing arts newsletter
• state college engineering department brochure
• www.ineedcoffee.com
• newspaper letters to the editor

I have written:

• essays
• speeches
• announcements
• seminar guidelines
• articles
• custom greeting cards
• proposals
• job policies/procedures
• department overview documents
• family newsletter
• advertising copy
• art critiques
• dream interpretations

But well before then, a grade school teacher had us each make a poetry booklet by binding together notebook paper into a report folder. We had to choose a title and could illustrate it in any manner we chose. We shared them by passing them around the room. The most fun part was deciding on an illustration for each poem. I loved reading poetry, as well, and having it read to me.

In junior high, my English teacher was so impressed by my essay, With Freedom Comes Responsibility, that she asked if she could read it to each of her classes. I had chosen the subject matter from a quotation card I had seen, and it gave me a chance to retaliate intelligently against my classmates' barbs and secretly assuage my hurt feelings. Plus, I loved composing sentences and constructing paragraphs. No, I had written with great expansiveness, I didn't want to go to parties, and stay out late, and be free to come and go like they were because with that freedom came responsibility, and pressure, and concerns that I was glad I didn't have. Sort of. Of course, I didn't know my teacher would want to broadcast it. How could I have said no? She was obviously impressed.

During that time, my classmates and I "published" autograph books by writing a different question at the top of each sheet of notebook paper, binding them into a report cover, and passing it around the school. The classmates were to scribble their answers to the questions on each page and sign. Of course, my book was more elaborately illustrated and designed than the others, and thicker with more extensive and provocative questions. There were threats and fights as rivals read their enemies' responses to questions such as Who do you love? Who do you hate? It was all in fun, but it was the creation of the book, the designing that intoxicated me, that caused me to apply myself like none of the others had.

In high school, I wrote a short story on notebook paper and circulated it. How glorious it felt to be the object of questions like Did you really write that?" or "I read your story as it was passed from male to female. They oohed and aahed but it had been so easy to write. Avid readers can make good writers. And when I produced the rhyming, twelve stanza, epic poem of "King Caesar" and his life in the seedy underbelly of the streets, they refused to believe I had written it.

I experienced a profound change when, in my twenties, I began to clip blocks of display text from magazines and paste them onto my pages of typed text. I would copy this layout and create a document for personal use to distribute to family or friends. Typewriters were being used then, and even on my job I would enhance my documents by using pasteup. I became like a person possessed and got such a high from it.

I then began to clip images and apply clipped captions in quite imaginative and clever ways, and my love for clipart was born. I began to cut and paste to my hearts desire, producing three-fold brochures from sheets of 8 1/2" x 11" paper. Eventually, I produced an 8 1/2" x 11" family booklet with several pages of stories, information, pictures and essays. I designed a cover sheet, copied the pages, collated and stapled them and distributed copies to my family members.

As an aspiring writer, I started like most do, submitting, submitting, submitting. I was producing manuscripts sporadically, and not faithfully following professional suggestions such as always obtaining a copy of publications before submitting, revise, revise, revise, submit that manuscript for 10 years if you have to, etc., etc., etc. The thought of submitting to publisher after publisher until one had a good day or liked my work was quite depressing.

I trudged along for 15+ years, writing and reading writers' market books, striving to conform and submitting off and on. I wasn't very successful since I was not consistent nor submissive. My files began to bulge with unsubmitted manuscripts that seemed to refuse to be rewritten to the specifications of others. I began to suspect that my potential eventual acceptance would be based more on editorial attitudes and preferences than ability. After a few more flailing attempts at submission, I lost sight of the value in relying on someone else to authenticate my work. I knew that I was good and I loved writing, but I never got into that groove of eternal submitting. But, I was driven to keep writing!

Then I began to understand the essence of publishing, and of any enterprise. What exactly is it that I am trying to do, in it's simplest form how is it done, and must I rely on someone else to do it for me?

I no longer submit manuscripts, except on rare occasions. I am an independent publisher which allows me to do the research, development, design and marketing that I love. I have always had something to contribute, something to say, and I enjoy broadcasting it.

My life IS writing, designing and publishing (and studio art, another long story).