“Writing paints a picture with words,” has been my motto all my life. Prose can communicate passion as well as poetry.
When I was four years old, WWII was raging in Europe. I tried to reconcile the sad pictures of dead children and soldiers with the reality around me.
To do find peace, I wrote stories to explain the images of death and dying in pictures that I drew. As I matured, I experienced personal tragedy with the death of a sister and then my mother.
I write with passion to understand the loss of those so dear to me. I wrote Deadly Distrust in memory of my dear father who taught me about wild mushrooms.
San Francisco was an exciting place to attend university. My first job was working for the probation department with wards of the court. I helped children deal with the misery of their lives. They had experienced abuse, sexual assault, and abandonment. Some we were able to get a better life but others, who were less resilient, struggled to cope with their memories.
In my thirties, I became a respiratory therapist and worked in emergency rooms and witnessed the tragedies of other people’s lives. I saw the results of drug abuse, gangland slayings, and officers who were badly wounded. Professionally, I encountered physicians under the influence of drugs and one who committed suicide, while doing drugs on his break, because his life was so painful for him.
All these stories have influenced me to write Deadly Distrust, a story that illustrates how drugs ruin lives. My story shares how an employer can abuse his employees and the how murderer can miss his target and kill the wrong person. There is romance too. One romance is built on trust that gets shaken and another ends in death. A third romance is a marriage in decline, also because trust has been broken.