I starting writing at eight years old because I had no other choice. I spoke with a lisp and I stuttered. As if this was not bad enough I suffered from childhood seizures which caused me to lose consciousness. Oh, yeah, I also wore glasses and very thick corrective shoes. Writing was easier than talking so I wrote. I created worlds where I was wonderful, articulate and awake. My stories made a very lonely childhood bearable. And than one day my sister found my stories. In the midst of running around the house preparing to tease me, she stopped and began to read. After a few seconds, she looked at me and said, “This is good.” At that very moment, I think my blood turned to ink. Writing became the love of my life (and I have three children and a husband). It was not an easy union. My parents were very disappointed that I was not going to be something they could understand like a doctor or lawyer. I was disappointed, too and tried every “day-job” imaginable but always I wrote. It has been an incredible journey. I was accepted into a writer’s workshop on Howard University’s campus at fifeteen. That year I was chosen to be a hostess at a Black Writers’ conference. I met Toni Morrison, Audre Lorde, Alice Walker and Imamu Baraka. I self published a volume of poetry at seventeen years old. I have won a National Endowment award, several writing contests, earned a literature degree and read my work across the country but those early years, when I studied under John Oliver Killens were some of the most significant years in my development as a writer. I learned the “old-school-Harlem Renaissance-method” of writing. I loved every minute of it. I also learned that writing is an art and a profession. As an art it has to be practiced. As a profession it has to be disciplined (and professional). Otherwise, folks, it’s just a hobby. This blog will attempt to do both. And have some fun, hopefully. Ok, let’s write.