T. Grace Bailey’s Followers (2)

T. Grace Bailey

Born

in Brunswick, The United States

March 18, 1969

Genre

Fiction, Ebooks, Paranormal

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I began this life on Orr’s Island in Maine (7th generation!), and only recently (June 2022), was able to move back home after being away for 34 years. During that time away I spent four years in the Air Force – stationed in Grand Forks, ND – where I discovered my love for sunflower fields and boxed wine. I married. Moved to Baton Rouge, LA, birthed my first son, moved to Fort Worth, TX, then Greenville, SC – where I brought my second son into the world. Back to Texas! Then I divorced several years later. Couldn’t be happier about that; since I got to retain not only my cats and lemon zester, but also my ex-husband’s Cajun cooking knowledge (I make a mean pot of Gumbo, Jambalaya, and Red Beans!). During all of this, I pined for my beautiful I began this life on Orr’s Island in Maine (7th generation!), and only recently (June 2022), was able to move back home after being away for 34 years. During that time away I spent four years in the Air Force – stationed in Grand Forks, ND – where I discovered my love for sunflower fields and boxed wine. I married. Moved to Baton Rouge, LA, birthed my first son, moved to Fort Worth, TX, then Greenville, SC – where I brought my second son into the world. Back to Texas! Then I divorced several years later. Couldn’t be happier about that; since I got to retain not only my cats and lemon zester, but also my ex-husband’s Cajun cooking knowledge (I make a mean pot of Gumbo, Jambalaya, and Red Beans!). During all of this, I pined for my beautiful Pine Tree State daily. Especially during the Texas summers – which are beloved only by snakes, tarantulas, scorpions, wasps, and crazy 7th generation Texans. I finally made it back to the exquisitely beautiful state of Maine.

I did not always want to be a writer. In elementary school I considered myself to be an artist and song writer. And to be honest, a horse. No, not a horse trainer, rider, etc. I pretended I was an actual horse. I ate raw Minute Rice out of a bowl on the floor, whacked myself with a stick, and galloped through the woods on the island. The whole horse thing didn’t work out – though I CAN still do a pretty convincing neigh. And about the singing - I do in fact have six original songs under my belt. Most were composed before I reached the age of twelve and written in the back of my grandmother’s camper. I had high hopes for “Five Men in my Bedroom,” (not what you think – it was about me saving men from committing suicide) and “Diamonds, Gold, and Silver,” – in which I describe seaweed as being, “slimy and long.” (Brilliant really). But not a single Grammy nomination. Dang it all. And when packing up all my things before my move from Texas to Maine, I found a pretty decent pencil drawing, from back in the 80s, entitled, “Robert Urich kidnaps Kate Jackson.” How I am not a famous artist, I shall never know.
Those professions were not to be, because in the seventh grade I received praise for a short story assignment I’d turned in, and I was hooked.

Let me tell you how I began writing in earnest. When I finally took my call to write seriously.
Late one evening in the summer of 2017, I was sitting outside alone under a stunningly clear night sky, doused in bug spray, crying. I’d had a good bit of wine.

I had pretty much hit a wall with my stress level at my sales job – and the desire to snip myself loose so I that could dive into writing, tugged at me constantly. But I was terrified to make that leap. That night, I tilted my head back (taking care not to spill my Chardonnay), and as I often do when I’m upset, I reached out to the spirits of my dad and nana. With tears streaming down my face, I said to the sky, “You could help me you know.”

The second the words left my lips, the biggest shooting star I’ve ever seen in my life shot right over the top of me. It was so large and close, I thought at first my town was being bombed. When it disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, I laughed and cried at the same time, and could imagine my dad and nana holding back grins, turning to each other and saying, “I think we got her attention that time.”

They did. And here I am, following my dream. If a perfectly timed shooting star makes me believe in myself, so be it.

I am a believer in the spirit carrying on after death. My quirky book, Sunflower Signs, is about love, family, and how our deceased loved ones reach out to us. I hope it will make you laugh, cry, and consider the possibilities.

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T. Grace Bailey's Blog

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T. Grace Bailey’s books

Average rating: 4.38 · 42 ratings · 8 reviews · 4 distinct works

	Sunflower Signs: Part I 4.35 avg rating — 26 ratings — 2 editions	Error rating book. Refresh and try again. Rate this book Clear rating 1 of 5 stars 2 of 5 stars 3 of 5 stars 4 of 5 stars 5 of 5 stars
	Sunflower Signs Part II 4.75 avg rating — 8 ratings — 2 editions	Error rating book. Refresh and try again. Rate this book Clear rating 1 of 5 stars 2 of 5 stars 3 of 5 stars 4 of 5 stars 5 of 5 stars
	Sunflower Signs Part III 4.50 avg rating — 6 ratings	Error rating book. Refresh and try again. Rate this book Clear rating 1 of 5 stars 2 of 5 stars 3 of 5 stars 4 of 5 stars 5 of 5 stars
	Dandelion Eternal: A Very Short Story about the Afterlife liked it 3.00 avg rating — 2 ratings	Error rating book. Refresh and try again. Rate this book Clear rating 1 of 5 stars 2 of 5 stars 3 of 5 stars 4 of 5 stars 5 of 5 stars

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Quotes by T. Grace Bailey (?)

“Well, don't take this the wrong way, but can I see what you bought? Because sometimes I think your idea of sexy is a little off.”
― T. Grace Bailey, Sunflower Signs: Part I

tags: humor, sisters

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