As for the writing process. First I’d like to write a few words as to what it isn’t, and then I’ll write more about what it is! And, I’m not good at generalizing for others, so this is just my personal experience with the writing process. The genesis for writing began when I produced sayings for cards for my mother because she was frequently sick. In 3rd grade I wrote a poem, which left a life-long impression on me about creativity: making something from nothing, and using words to boot! I wrote about what I loved, such as nature and animals. In 4th grade I started keeping a diary, but was too afraid of someone finding it to continue. I loved words and read the dictionary in 5th grade for a past time! I also loved to read, and loved books so much I would sleep with them by my pillow. When I was 12/13 I wrote book reports for my older brother, who had a job and went to school, so had little time. I was very concerned about vocabulary and punctuation. He got A’s for those reports and told me I had a talent, but I did not believe it was a talent because it seemed to come easily to me. (Math, on the other hand, caused nightmares because it was so hard!) I also had difficulty writing about summer vacations; that’s when I fictionalized what really happened at my father’s house. For example, instead of writing that I witnessed him beating my stepmother, I would write about a dress I had made as a burgeoning fashion diva. I wrote dark poetry in high school, some of which is in the book. I wonder if I would have written in another genre had my life not been altered by abusive events. Those abusive events caused a block in this way: I suddenly became afraid to write even term papers because if I started writing, what secret might sneak onto the page? When I was 15 I read a book titled “The Muckrakers” which was about social workers and journalists exposing child labor and helping to create laws to protect children. That’s when I knew that I wanted to write about the truth and help the vulnerable. I also wanted to be a psychiatrist so I could fix my family, but upon discovering I’d have to make friends with cadavers in medical school, I nixed that plan. In high school the only colleges I applied to and was accepted at were in Colorado (lo these many years later I am finally here.) My majors were to be English and Psychology, but I was too scared to go. Later, in college in Arizona, majoring in business in my twenties, I somehow used personal experiences to tie into term papers without revealing myself. For example, I would choose subjects such as suicide or schizophrenia. I was fortunate to receive accolades for writing (my papers being stored in the college library as examples) but I had such low self-esteem that I thought the professors were lying. I thought that my writing was so bad that they felt compelled to offer sympathy compliments. When I married that man Todd, I tried to keep journals, but he mocked my endeavors. I went through a long period of thinking that I had nothing interesting to write about, and no one would be interested in what I had to say. Thus, I remained blocked. So, what the writing process was not a smooth evolution, but fits and starts of interests and fears conflicting with desires. However, all of the above led to writing. I ended up combining all of the above interests in the writing process, including English, Psychology, Social Work, and Reviews (the genesis of that was book reports.)