Short Girl. Short Stories.

My whole life has consisted of people calling me short. I’m 5’1″ and my height seems to be something that amuses people. I’ve taken it on the chin many times, especially in high school when I was called a name that I’d rather not share as it is not at all politically correct, and it’s also not very nice. Honestly, I have a good handle on myself, can laugh it off, and, truthfully, being vertically challenged has never bothered me. (Okay, that’s a lie: the only REAL time it has bothered me is when I am shopping for something I WOULD LOVE TO WEAR, but it doesn’t look good on someone of petite stature. Then, I’m annoyed.) Other than that, I’m rather comfortable in my own skin, in my own height bracket, and in my size 6.5 shoes, because I buy so many of them on the sale rack for discounted prices. I get GREAT discounts on shoes.

The word “short” has been in my vocabulary for as long as I can remember. I just adapted to being tiny, and I learned to love myself no matter what. I make no apologizes for the mere inches I was given in height by my parents. We can get a boob job, a nose job, eye lifts and Botox, tummy tucks and lipsuction, but we cannot get a height adjustment. Only my platform sandals and stacked-heeled boots can give me that. And I do tend to wear those on my feet.

So when I was creating my ad campaign for my latest book, I thought…why not take advantage of the word short? I have written an entire book of short stories (along with some poetry), and the word “short” to modify the word “story” is not a bad word. I love a good short story. And I love to tell a good short story. I fell in love with the genre by reading wonderful short stories by notable writers. There’s something fun about getting readers hooked on plot and story right away, and offering readers the chance to indulge at their own pace, on their own schedule.

Short girl. Short stories.

So on this beautiful Sunday afternoon, I have a whole bunch of shortness just for you.


P.S. I may have told a white lie above. I do curse when I have to reach something up high in the kitchen cabinet when even standing on my tip-toes, I can’t get to it. Frustrating as ****!


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