It’s hard to write about myself.
I’m always stuck in the middle:
Middle -class, -age, -weight, and height,
Nothing I say ever seems to come out right.

I was born in Russia when dinosaurs were still there and the rest of the world thought that land was covered with ice and snow, and bears sniffing all around. The snow and cold – that’s true, there is plenty of that natural adversity. I think we fear animals less than people, especially individuals armed with powerful ideas.

So, welcome to my childhood full of communist agendas where we didn’t have any rights, but still felt we were solid patriots. How can anyone not, after so many bloody wars and revolutions and Russia with her enormous border surrounded by challenging neighbors? Plus, when you’re kept inside a cage, brainwashed with propaganda, and out of a real comparison – I think anyone will start feeling as if they’re the best of the best.

Besides, I deeply believe that each  –ism’s  system has its glory of hell. So, when I was a child I didn’t care who was ruling the country as long as everyone looked pretty equal, happy, and simple. Children spent a lot of time at school, in sport activities, libraries, studying, or just gathering on their play yards. I was the same.

When my mother would send me to the nearby grocery store for fresh bread, most of the time the still warm loaf was missing its yummy and crunchy crust before I returned home. Ask any Russian, and they will tell you how as a child they ate that wonderful crust. It was delicious back then in that unspoiled part of the world.

Apparently, we didn’t have enough of anything, except Russians were hungry readers at that time, and most of the ‘blue collar’ families proudly kept full sets of classic literature on their bookshelves. Born into a big family of readers, I never knew a time that I wasn’t reading or making up stories. Somewhere down the line I started writing short articles and poetry, at first for a school newspaper… it is odd to recall it now from so long ago.

A short time back while studying English, I saw a picture of the circle of human life: birth, marriage, reproduction, and death. So simple! Where is study, love, mental and physical challenge, military service, hatred, jealousy, divorce, betrayal and so on? It’s a lucky person whose life is a circle, and not a polygon.

I guess most Russians feel the roads of their lives have been mostly up and down and twisted, much like riding a rollercoaster. Mine was no different. I finished a college and received my diploma and became a successful business manager, but not a successful manager of my own life. One of the results was I had to raise my children by myself.

When the communist system was rotten down to the core, my professional life was also shattered  …well never mind, you get the picture. That’s why I’m residing in the United States, but my Russian culture obviously still has a large influence on my writing.

I can easily say the familiar words, “You can take the person out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the person.” So there I was, struggling at the beginning by overly dressing up for every occasion, even just to go to the grocery store and all the while also wrestling with learning conversation. Although writing comes easy to me, the English language is a tough nut to crack.

For a decade now I've been happily married to my husband. Bill has huge management talent, and has become a light for my path. He is my rock, who provides support in all directions.  There is no way I would be who I am now without him. God bless America, to raise that kind of man!

~ Yours truly, NG