Just more notes:
      I have been asked when I started writing... I really can't remember the exact time. I remember 'day-dreaming' a lot when I was four and five, which may have started my brain to explore an unseen universe that it was hiding.
     Thinking 'way' back, I was nine when my little brother was born. I cared for him almost constantly and while holding him, I began to tell him of places, in my imagination, that we would go when he got bigger. When he was about two, and wanted a story at night, I told him 'bedtime' stories, my way, with a twist. That's about the time I began to write things down. I was also designing clothes for my paper-dolls, and drawing everything I saw or thought about. And I read everything that I could get my hands on. I watched the clouds change from one animal to another, then I would stare into space, just 'thinking', my imagination was overflowing.
       I wrote little stories or poems throughout grammar school, but my first serious story was written when I was in 7th grade, (about 11yrs.). I can't remember what the name was then, but it is called ECHOED FOOTSTEPS now. Of course it has changed some throughout the years, but I never forgot it. At 13, 9th grade, we had to write for an English class. A few were chosen to be published. That was my first experience. But it's funny, I can't remember what I wrote. May be because I was told that I wasn't good enough, and it wouldn't amount to anything.
   Many other disappointments occurred, but that's another story.
    I continued telling my stories to my brother, and my baby sister. I think they must have enjoyed them, as they always wanted to hear more. Sometimes, I would keep notes, but mostly I kept them in my head. When we moved from our house, all my notes, art work, and designs disappeared mysteriously.
     When my own children were young, I used to tell them some of the same stories that I told my brother and sister. I began to write again, a few stories and poetry, but never thought I was good enough to be published. That always stayed in my mind.
       And then came grandkids. Jayson especially, used to want to hear bedtime stories. You can't imagine how many ways The Three Little Pigs can be told. I think that's what  woke the brain up. It still isn't to it's full potential. I may not ever have 'what it takes' to be a great writer, but I enjoy having people read what I write, even if I don't get paid for it.
 B.A.Lee