Okay, I'm always asking people to send me a G'Dmnd Bio, why is this so tuff to do? I write ALL the time.
This SHOULD be easy.

What do I know about writing?

I don't know.

(Above the "I don't know" is a weighted white space between the paragraphs, where I am just letting those words sink into the literary parts of my brain like wet noodles that get stuck in a sieve after you left them out all night and you should have cleaned them up... not that I do that.)

I think it has something to do with cataloging.
Not the Noodles...Writing.

It gives me a feeling that I'm not losing my life experience. I always seem to understand things better three years later. It's good to have notes, so I can find out what happened.
I don't have a degree in writing. Though, I advocate education when ever I'm given the chance. My lack of education or retaining any formal information about anything, leaves me pray to anal correctors. They descend on me like girl scout mothers with combs trying to straighten my literary hair. I am constantly reminded of spelling errors, by friendly copy editors; though, my spelling ineptitude does not stop me from winning at scrabble and isn't that why they invented editors, anyway?
Not for scrabble, for bad spellers like me.
I tell people my Grammar is my Mudder's Mudder. I'm not good at it. If I could afford a regular editor, I'd work her to death. As it is, I rely upon friends to tell me off; I mean, to edit my work. I do like talking and telling stories and if I can't find an audience, I write. I keep a note book in my purse which I sometimes use. Most times I am writing the story in my head then I race home and try and remember what did that loud man in the next booth say? Man, he sounded like he was broadcasting for radio. Everyone at Marie Calendars knew he just got his catheter out.

I read at bookstores, at Writer Forums, I attend critique groups and writing classes. I even joined the California Writers Club, which was one of the best moves I've made. But that's only in the past four years since my boyfriend (who is now my husband ) started introducing me as his "Writer Friend."

Carol: "Why do you always say that? I'm not PUBLISHED FOR GOD SAKES!"
Glenn: "Well, You are my FRIEND, and you write ALL the time." (Said in a deep manlike voice)

Glenn always has an interesting take on things like that. He finds the weirdest topics. He's just a veritable fountain of strange encyclopedic information, like you know that new antidepressant drug, clomipramine? Well, apparently in some people, uh...it causes them to get very ... HAPPY! When they YAWN.
NO, really, VERY VERY HAPPY (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) by just YAWNING!
Now, that's a drug that brings a whole new definition to the label on the side of the bottle, "satisfaction guaranteed!"
Glenn educates me in all manner of challenging topics, and it's true; my mom taught me how to write when I was five, and I haven't stopped since. But, it was Glenn who introduced me to the idea of who I was.

I am a writer.

I'm a mother of three children from a previous life. All of whom have now somehow managed to grow up fine without me, thanks. They need less and less of my input. I raised them with arts and crafts and freaky car rides, seances, parties and independence. Gosh, I didn't think they would just up and become their own persons. I thought they would still hang out with me. But parents are boring and old hat.
As Glenn says, "Well, Did YOU want to hang out with YOUR mom when you were 22?"

I'm not so much like a crumpled brown derby lost in the closet. I'm more like a tarnished white Stetson lying in the middle of the hall. Right where my three kids are going to walk. Kind of like my dog, Lucie. (Here's where Glenn barks "YOUR DOG?")
Lucie's always right there, in your path. When you trip over her, she yipes like you really hurt her.
I keep lying in my kid's wake hoping they'll trip over me, so I can yelp loud and send them all on guilt trips. It's the only vacation I can afford to give them.

Writing does not earn you big bucks. NO, NO it doesn't. Shut UP!
I do not want to hear how much mega dollars Jackie Collins or J.K. Rowling are making this week.
Hey!
Both their first names begin with "J". Do you think that has anything to do with it? I could change my name to Jay Wood. Maybe that would do it...
All of my friends (Gees, all of my friends are writers!) all of my friends would say this bio is
"Too long, Carol, and it's boring. Where's the story? Look, they're going to sleep out there."
(Can't you just hear their voices, kind of whiney - hold your nose with your fingers, yeah like that. Now talk. Wow, that sounds just like JoAnne.)

Well, if my writing has achieved some purpose...if it's only to help all those people yawning out there who are on that antidepressant drug, clomipramine,well... I'm glad I could (YAWN)
get you to orgasm.