Dictating, sputtering all the words I knew, 
my mother typed those words with a cursive typewriter.
Decorated with Time magazine photos that I cut with scissors,
and glued with sticks, little story books were created when I was four.
Later, my mother said that we had creative differences, but 
I could write by this time and didn’t need her anymore.
I made my first independent zine with a yellow sticky note.
The front: bear in puffy skirt drawing, I printed “I may not be what you expect”.
The flip: bear with mohawk drawn, penciled message, “I will be what I want.”

My mother kept this until the day she died, proud, and perhaps, a little terrified.
I may not be what you expect/I will be what I want,
that is the power of being your own press. 

Share your words . . . even if only with yourself. 
You are audience enough. 
And, I urge everyone to get your own lit into the world. 
You may not be the only ones who need it.