What do I want to write? Something different. Something fresh. Something real. Something entertaining. Something Peach...and I'm gonna do it. I just started and I'm apprehensive about putting these things on paper...it'll be called, "Raising Myself from Scratch; Memoirs of a Texas Peach." or something like that. And it scares the shit out of me to write it. Here’s a brief excerpt of the very rough draft...

"First let me say that this is fiction. Oh, it’s a true story alright, some of it. It’s just that memory and perception, well, aren’t always accurate. I knew this, have always known this, but the first time I truly realized it was in speaking with my mother one time. As I recall, she wondered when we stopped being such good friends. My non-committal replies obviously didn’t satisfy her on this one. And yes, I heard her, but didn’t want to bring up my sixteenth birthday when I didn’t get jack-shit, but we went shopping and spent a cool few grand on her, running up the credit cards just before the divorce. It was 1986 for Christ’s sake, mom, the clothes sucked! Needing time to chill out, I asked her to repeat the questions, but she became terse. Of course I bit back with sarcasm and replied that it was probably around the time I turned three years old, mom. That led to a blissful quiet that lasted several years."