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235 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 5, 2016
"Are you going to be my new mommy?"





["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>["br"]>In fiction and movies, I like the unfolding, the figuring out, the discovery. I tolerate beginnings because, well, every story needs exposition and backstory. I’m less a fan of the end. Because is it really ever the end? I waver between craving the resolution and wanting to know what’s next—because even at the end there is always something next.
By contrast, in my everyday life, I yearn for the answer, the resolution. I can’t stand things left undone. Oh, I can procrastinate with the best of them but I like my conflicts resolved. Maybe it has something to do with the way I grew up, but I wish for the proverbial happy (or, at least, content) ending.

"My name is Wilhelmina Jane. Who does that to a kid? Wilhelmina Jane. There are so many horrible combinations of names you can make from that. Shall I elaborate? Willie J. Minnie Jane. It only got worse after the media started with the JLo/Hip Hop nickname thing. The list goes on. Then add my last name—Cooper. Yup, you got it. Minnie Cooper. For real. This was never a thing when I was a kid—only in the 2000s when Mini Cooper automobiles were introduced and that damn The Italian Job movie came out. Now, my name is a big joke."

