This is my 100th weekly blog.

                   Woo hoo!

                                   Talk about a journey . . .

I have a few people to acknowledge on the occasion of this momentous achievement:

No thanks to someone who, early on, was the most vicious critic imaginable.  She showed me no mercy.  Nothing I published was good enough for her.  True enough, some of my early posts were pathetic and sales-pitchy and I wasn’t proud of them either.  If I hadn’t been so stubborn, I would have quit.

(… she was me.)

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Going way back to my sophomore year at St. Stephen’s High School in Saginaw, Michigan – where seldom was heard an encouraging word – I must thank Mr. Ward, my Creative Writing teacher.  Of all the teachers in my K-thru-12th grade experience, he was the only one that ever praised me.

Several months ago I wrote thank-you letters to people who probably have no idea what a positive impact they had made in my life.  I did an online search and wrote letters to two different Richard Wards residing in Michigan who fit the approximate age range.  Never heard back.  Maybe the “right” Mr. Ward will read this post and finally get the message how much I appreciate his encouraging words.

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I must also thank Bruce Gelfand, my writing coach/teacher/friend, who thinks I’m a genius.  The fact that he regards all his students as geniuses speaks volumes about his masterful coaching.  When I was planning to celebrate CTP’s 25th anniversary party in 2002, I wanted someone to write a piece about the “improbable story” of how I came to own the business.  At the time, Bruce was coaching a friend of mine, so I called to ask if he would do it. He said, “No, I won’t write it.  But I will help you write it.”

For six consecutive Saturdays, I drove through the canyon to Santa Monica – to his shabby little studio (creative types always have shabby studios, right?), and he helped me write a memoir that I call, “my little book.”  He helped me remember myself as a little girl looking up in wonderment at the vapor trails slicing through the sky – wondering if I would ever fly in one of those little airplanes.  The experience of writing that small, self-published chronicle of my life in travel was life affirming because it helped me appreciate how far I’d come and how much I’d learned.

We’ve been working together ever since.  If you’ve ever had the slightest desire to write, but you think you cannot – I encourage you to take a class or a workshop with Bruce.  He will inspire, encourage, provoke and empower you to find your voice and commit it to paper.

I recently found the notebook from those sessions with Bruce more than a dozen years ago.  When it was over, I had journaled this:

“The experience of writing my story was both empowering and humbling. I became acutely aware of what I desired – recognition, attention, self-acceptance, confidence, humor, adventure, seeking, loving. The storytelling to Bruce – and his attentiveness – met my need for divulging my past and my present. It was a magnificent feeling to be so heard and attuned to.  He laughed with me at the funny parts and empathized with me during the painful parts.

Integrating all the disparate stories – making the connections – and editing it down to its essence was remarkable. The voices that spoke to me during the writing process – alternately praising and defiling me – was an interesting awareness.  The confident moments were fleeting.  “Who do I think I am?” and “What will they think of me?” and “How silly is this?” were much more prevalent than, “You’ve got a fascinating story to tell!” and “How interesting is that!”

I learned about words to use and words to avoid, exclamation points, dialogue and writing in present tense.  All applicable to life, not just to writing.  I respect the discipline and risk it takes to be a writer – especially when writing a memoir.”

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My husband, Scott, is smart, creative and a great proofreader. He contributes much of the snarky, sarcastic stuff and many of the catchy titles are his ideas.  Thanks, honey, for your late-night support every Thursday, when I know you really just want to go to bed.

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My employee, Whitney Merritt, is responsible for designing and scheduling the email blast on Friday mornings.  Though she doesn’t always stay up till 2:30 AM on Thursday night/Friday morning till I finish writing my blog – she always gets it done and sent out on Friday morning.  Thank you, Whitney.

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And, of course, I must thank the 30(ish) percent of you (on average) who open and read my blogs.  Not sure what percentage of that number actually read the whole thing … but a handful of people comment, email and otherwise compliment me on my writing.  You have no idea how much that encourages me to keep writing – and I get better and better at it because of your compliments and accolades.

So thank you, dear readers!  

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I looked through the statistics to determine if there were any obvious trends – and found something very interesting.  There were three posts that “spiked” – generating an open rate of more than 40% (compared to an average of about 30%).  Each of those three posts had the word “Goodbye” in the subject line.  (Hmmmm …. is that a hint?)

• My favorite post?  Probably a tie between the one about the bobble-headed Pope and the recent one about the Baja hitchhiker.
• My most heartfelt post – and the one with the highest open rate of anything I’ve ever published?  The one about my dear, sweet Rocky (cat) …. still brings tears.

• How about it?  What was YOUR favorite post?  (please comment below)