I enjoy writing, but I am a high-level procrastinator. This is the first book I’ve had published. I am not good at promoting myself or even letting people read my work. If it hadn’t been for friends, friends who were also writers, and my husband, Charles Pfahl, the manuscript would still be in a file in my office and I’d never mention it to a soul. Other people have taken care of this. Other people have made it possible for me to send Juggle and Hide out into the world. On my own. No way. So any help I can get from anyone is better than what I can do for myself. I’m older now and it’s about time I start sharing my stories with others. Someone might even be helped by something I write. So many things have happened in my life that have turned me into the survivor I am today. I’m hoping that now that Juggle and Hide has found its way out into the world, that I will be able to begin a new book very soon. I have lots of ideas running around in my head, but the sorrow I feel from the recent loss of my husband, has taken precedence over everything else. In time, I’m sure I’ll write again. Hopefully, I can put into words the love story that was ours. We met at my wedding reception for my first marriage in 1968. He married someone else, too. Then we were just friends. Later we met again – after we had both been divorced from our first loves -- and became lovers and moved in together for two years. We lived and worked in New York – in a huge loft in Hell’s Kitchen. Because of our alcoholism and drug addition, we didn’t last long. We split up, married other people again, and then both of us moved all over the place till we ran out of steam and ended up in New York at the same time (and also both divorced again). I had already stopped drinking and drugging by then and was two years sober. He was in very bad shape and was staying with friends only blocks from where I was living. He got my phone number from an old friend. We had dinner. I did my amends for my part of our difficulties back in the 70s and he asked me to help him. We were together after that for twenty years. Twenty sober years and it was a wonderful time for both of us. Then came cancer and death and here I am on my own living one day at a time. Should be able to write about our story soon. Or at least be able to write something again. Grief lasts forever, I think.