“Believe you can, and you’re halfway there.” ~Theodore Roosevelt
Dear Reader,
One of the joys of becoming an author is the ability to share your message with others and potentially change the world!
Lofty ideals, I know, but really, why else would anybody put so much work into writing and publishing a book?
I've felt all sorts of emotions putting my words into the world. Sharing the dark secrets of my childhood as well as the ups and downs of starting a business and working in the prison system.
But in the end, I know that if I inspire one person to do what they've dreamed of, start a business, change lives or create a beautiful life for themselves, then I feel like it's all worthwhile.
What would you like to put into the world Reader?
Wing of an Angel - snippets
What would you do with your life if you knew how brilliant you were?
How did a woman with no experience in psychology, mental health or prison become passionate about being the voice for the voiceless? The story of my childhood is sad but not unusual: neglected, abused, and mistreated.
As an adult, I was determined to claw my way out of the gutter I’d been born into. I wanted to be better than the way I was brought up. I designed a new identity for myself.
In 1984, I worked as a ‘data input clerk’ in a Builders Merchants. An office of eight women took the purchase notes from the counter where all the bricks and tools were sold, and we typed them into a computer system. This was the pre-Microsoft era. Everything was manual.
The colossal computer disks whirred in a large room just behind us, and I’d see the Computer Manager, Ruth, going in every evening to remove the daytime disks and carry them down to an iron safe in the basement. Ruth was only about five feet four inches, so I would often help carry the disks, and we got to be friends. “I need an assistant,” Ruth said one day as we sipped our sweet tea. The gigantic printers whirred and clicked as they spouted out the end-of- day reports. “I’ll apply,” I said and hugged her.
“What makes you think you can do the job?” The general manager sat behind his elephant desk; squinty eyes pierced me over the top of his silver-rimmed glasses. His thin hair was greased back from his stern, pale face.
If you'd like to find out what happened next, you can get a free copy of my eBook during the promotional event. Read an Ebook Week from the 3rd of March.