Hi, I'm Peggy

While attending a creative writing workshop for therapists a few years ago, the instructor told me I had a story that needed telling. People had been telling me for years that I should write a book. I wanted to, but l lacked the confidence, plus I was busy working and raising three kids. And I figured I'd need a ghost writer. My instructor told me I didn't need one. I wasn't sure if I believed her. Even after earning a master's degree and graduating with a 3.9 GPA, I lacked confidence in my academic abilities. Among my peers in school, some of them my age or older, deep down I felt like I didn't belong. I ate Imposter Syndrome for breakfast and dinner. 

There were few places I felt like I belonged. I was a confident mother, and I owned the dance floor, but anything that involved being around people for extended periods, brought out my insecure part. I was constantly worried that someone would talk about things from high school like reading The Odyssey or Lord of the Flies, meeting their spouse, the house they grew up in, their extended family, lifelong friends; all experiences I did not possess. When the conversation did go in those directions, I'd go silent. I had nothing to contribute. 

I eventually started talking more openly about my having an eighth-grade education. People were curious and fascinated. They wondered how I "turned out so well," and how my mom got away with taking us out of school. Nobody looked down on me, as I'd feared. And if they did, at that point in my life, I didn't care.

Two years after that creative writing workshop, at a silent retreat (the final day of the Mindfulness course I was taking) I ran to the car afterward to jot down memories from my childhood that played like a mini-series in my mind throughout the day. That night, I started writing. I didn’t create an outline or plot it out. I just wrote. For the first time in more than three decades, I allowed painful memories to surface, and I put them to paper. Coincidently, I'd started reading Jeannette Walls', The Glass Castle. Reading her memoir unearthed even more memories. 

Once I caught the writing bug, I set my goal to write a complete manuscript to publish. I would love to say I wrote my heart out over six months and finished the book. but life had been rocky, to say the least. I went through periods of writing nightly to periods of not writing at all. During those years, I battled multiple health challenges, lost my kids' father, and lost my son to suicide. Life was brutal. 

I got through it all and I'm still going. But I needed to get out of Iowa. Every corner of Iowa felt like something to grieve. Everything around me reminded me of losing my son. So, my husband, Steve, and I moved to Athens, Georgia end of 2022. After settling in and getting through the worst of my grief, I got back to writing. It helped to focus on something other than my pain. I set deadline goals and got to work. I'm nearly finished with the manuscript and have started pitching agents. Wish me luck!

Follow my blog (button above) to track my progress and failures. There is sure to be many, from what I understand of the publishing industry.  I'm shooting for 100 rejection letters. If I get that many, that means I've queried at least 100 agents.