Deborah and I met in Pilates class. We never said more than hello for about six months until one day I mentioned I had to rush away after class because I had a lot of work to do. She asked what I did, and when I said I am a writer, her eyes lit up. She said, I'm a writer too. And our friendship was off and running. I've read a lot of her stories, and I totally agree. She is a writer. I'm so happy to introduce her work to you. My Writing Life By Deborah Kalan I have been writing seriously since my eleventh birthday when I received a leatherette diary the color of blue Irises. The diary was secured with a little strap that had a gold lock and two gold keys. On the front of it were the words Dear Diary. Each page was divided into five sections of about five lines, which in my 11-year-old mind, restricted me to extremely brief entries. In those days, I mostly wrote about boys. The cute ones, the creepy ones, the ones that liked me, the ones that I liked who didn't like me. … [Read more...]