My mom and dad told me that I should learn a trade instead when I told them I could attend University of Massachusetts Lowell on a full scholarship. I know that advice came from their hearts. Having grown up during the Great Depression and without the opportunity to finish high school, they wanted me to be able to support myself. I went anyway. I hope they wouldn’t have been disappointed in me. Other than clacking away at a keyboard, I’ve never been especially good with my hands.

Throughout my life, the good times and the bad, writing has been a constant source of equilibrium. While the loving work of caring for my own family necessitated pursuing other professional paths, I never stopped creating in the margins. I’ve been fortunate to publish some stories along the way. I juggled school, work, and family to attend the Harvard Extension School, where I took my writing and reading life to a new level, and the Bennington Writing Seminars, where I honed my craft and shared a love of literature and writing with fellow writers.

Today, my children are grown, and I have more time to write and even dabble in visual art. I continue to pursue another professional path, not so much out of necessity as out of love. I’m an English professor at Quinsigamond Community College, where I founded the creative writing club and I get to share my love of writing, literature, and life with remarkable students.

With my debut story collection, I want to share that love with readers. It is the culmination of decades of lived experience and writing in the margins. The characters in my stories believe in grace. They also, as a French friend used to admonish me, believe in the life. Me, too.  And I also believe that it is better to have bloomed late than to have never bloomed at all.