Some months ago, riding home from school, my 6-year-old granddaughter confided in me that she'd heard 'a word' and told me shyly what it was. I responded matter-of-factly as she knew I would,which is why she shared with me. First, I asked her where she'd heard it. "In a song". (And, btw, from someone at school as far as I could discern.) She hastened to assure me she wasn't "saying" it--just telling me she'd heard it. She already knew, of course, it was a word not fit to come out of her small mouth.

I reiterated what she already knew, and then I reminded her that God had given us our eyes, ears, mouth, etc. and that I expected it made Him very sad when we didn't take care of them and keep them clean. "Oh," she said. Of course, carefully raised as she has been, she knew that, too.

Then I said, "You know, Hanna, Mimi likes to listen to the radio in the car, but I kept hearing a song with a word I didn't think I should be hearing, so I don't listen to that station anymore."

"Oh," she said, this time with some surprise.

Which brings me to the the subject in the title of this blog:

I will write about...
real people, good and badreal situationsreal strugglesreal emotions 
I will write with...
restraint--the most graphic word available isn't  the only word available nor necessarily the best; if I use 'strong' language, it will be in context and not held up as acceptablerespect for my readers who are adults and know the reality of human relations, especially sexualresearched-based facts so as not to offend any ethnic/religious group I include in my story 
I will never write as if...
my deeply-held beliefs are 'on hold' for the duration of a storyit doesn't matter what I write if I don't act the same no one will really care if I cross lines

I will write to...

encourageupliftbring a smile
I will always remember that someday I will no longer live here. I can take nothing with me, so I will leave everything behind. When/if my grandchildren read my books, I want them to  be proud that Mimi stood for something. She did not make the New York Times Bestseller List. She did not make a million dollars. But maybe--just maybe--she made a difference.