ONCE UPON A TIME ...
Now there's a good start for my memoirs. But seriously, it was once upon a time when a little girl with blonde hair and blue eyes (does it sound like a Disney movie yet?) grew up in the baddest part of Brooklyn.
Determined to fit in, I oftentimes strayed off the straight and narrow path (at least once a week, accroding to the number of detention slips I got in school). Still, she had a dream.
Hidden away under my bed were at last a dozen marble composition books, and each of them were filled with short stories. Some were the stories I handed in for homework for English class to please the teacher I hated the most (which was fair because she hated me right back). Barely readable on homework looseleaf but charming works of art from a young girl's mind when she didn't have to worry about margins and grammar.
Fast forward to the last chapter of my memoir. Well, it can't be the last chapter, really, because there's still a lot of living left for me to do. And what will I be doing in the years to come? Still writing (check out my latest novel, Once Upon a Moscow Night, if you like a good love story) and watch for my newest creation coming out this fall.
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