In the ivory tower bedroom of the Glencoe house where I grew up, I fantasized about being a writer.  My hero was  O. Henry, and like him, I wanted to write short stories.  Not a Magnum Opus.  Not the Great American Novel.  Just stories. 

It didn't happen.

Instead, I wrote books.  Crime and suspense novels.  I still do.  But finally...finally...I was given the opportunity to write stories.  Vignettes.  And "think" pieces.  A little bit of this.  A little bit of that.  

I love to write.  I love to share what I write.

Welome to my world.

Shelly Reuben