I've been having such a great time putting up my post for Chapo-Wrimo over my birthday month I might just have to continue through the Xmas and New year holidays. Now for everything you ever wanted to know about me real or made up. You'll just have to keep reading.
A Creative Biography, part one
We moved to a mobile home on two acres the summer before I was going to start high school. In my teenage opinion it was a rough life. The television didn't get cable, the air conditioning didn't work right and then there was also the occasional rattlesnake. Did I mention it was seven miles out of town and I didn't drive yet.
The Sears catalog soon became dog eared and torn from hours of searching for just the right decor for my room. The single bed was covered with a red and white chenille bedspread. A Tree of Life batik was hung with hippie flair. Every inch of my walls were covered with stationary, wrapping paper, album covers and posters torn from Tiger Beat magazine.
That room was my sanctuary. I could close the door, light a strawberry scented candle and moon over rock stars, write poetry, keep a journal. Dude the cat and I would listen to records and pretend we were somewhere other than in a trailer at the end of a dirt driveway on a hillside in Mendocino County.
I read and wrote voraciously, daydreaming of when I would move to a big, magnificent city like New York or Barcelona. I would change my name to something more dramatic, after some tragic fictional heroine like Scarlet or Daisy. Or if I decided to keep my name I would just use my first name and on all my publications it would be spelled in lowercase letters, "The author sensation, mona!"
Sometimes when I was bored to tears I would steal a cigarette out of my dad's pack of L and M's and go down towards the road. Sitting in on of the fruit trees at the bottom of the property, I pictured myself being a tour guide at the U.N. or teaching children to read as a Peace Corp volunteer in Africa.
To be continued...
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