About Me

Since inception, my life has been a soap opera of epically boring proportion. I am, dare I say, the product of an affair between a married man and an impressionable young woman. The stress of bearing a second child was enough to cause my mother to snap mentally. Back then, it meant confinement to a state mental hospital. While my mother was detained by the state for her own safety, I lived with my maternal grandparents. They were living on whatever welfare paid them and supplemented their diet with fresh vegetables during the gardening season and canned during the winter months. Meat consisted of groundhog and occasionally chicken. I learned to swing an axe to behead a chicken at a very young age.

One Christmas, my father came for me and took me to visit him in an old house that he was living in. Electricity was supplied by a gas generator. Water entered the house via a hand-pump, the same as it did at my grandparents house. I have some strange and surreal memories of that house, both before and after that fateful Christmas visit. I had lived in that house before my visit there. I remember a tractor-pulled sleigh ride with my mother one winter. I remember a german shepherd named Ginger giving birth to a litter of puppies. I remember losing one of a pair of red patent leather Mary Janes in a cow field and years later finding the shoe in the field where I had lost it long after the cow had been gone from the old farm. And during that Christmas visit, I remember telling my father how much I hated going to school because nobody liked me. He promised me that I would be going to a different school. It was a good intentioned lie, but with my father, it was par for the course.

I could go on. But I figure by now that you are convinced that I'm making all this up to seem more interesting. I'm not, but whatever. Can't change the past. Once I figured that out, none of this really matters. What matters is what you came here for - the product of my wild imagination. My apologies for the unfinished stories. Sometimes an idea just doesn't go where you want it to. Also, I'm not good with long form fiction. For proof, search for Julirose Piatt on Amazon Kindle. If you have KU, it won't cost a cent to read any of them. Or you can drop by my other blog at https://julirose.wordpress.com/.