PENELOPE FOOTSIES (sample from upcoming project "Bedtime Stories For Kids Who Have Heard It All")

Penelope Footsies was a tiny girl with big feet. Not just regular big feet, not just very large feet, but humongous feet. And what was worse was that her friends always tried to tell her all the things she couldn’t do because her feet were so big.

Her friend Hector said, “You know, Penelope, even though I like you very much, you can’t go roller skating with me because you’ll lose your balance and fall.”

And her friend Molly said, “I’m sorry, Penelope, you can’t come ice skating with me. Your feet will break through the ice, and you’ll sink to the bottom.”

Susie, her best friend, would try to make her feel better and tell her all the things that she could do: “Why, Penelope, just think, you can use your feet like oars and paddle across the pond and you don’t need skis , you’ve got your feet. Even better, you can kill a whole ant colony, all at once.” But remembering that Penelope Footsies was very kind, she added, “Every one of them, in one fell swoop, of course, only if you wanted to, and I know you wouldn’t.”

One day, in school, Penelope’s teacher asked all the children, what they wanted to be when they grew up. When it was Penelope’s turn, she stood up. Unfortunately, she tripped over her feet, as she said “I want to be a ballerina.”

All the children laughed, but Penelope didn’t cry. Penelope was the kind of person who would decide to do something and do it. “I’m going to take ballet lessons and I’m going to work very hard at it, and you’ll all see, I will be a ballerina.”

“Sure, sure, sure,” Jack , the freckled face boy in the next aisle, called out to her. “You’ve got the biggest feet I’ve ever seen on a girl. Good ballerinas have to have small, dainty feet so they don’t clump around.”

Penelope answered him. “There’s room in this world for all kinds of feet, and just so you know, there will be no clumping. I will dance.”

She chose not to say anything about his freckles, although, boy, did she want to.

The next day, Penelope’s mother arranged for ballet lessons and Penelope went to her lessons twice a week for months. Finally, when she was feeling confident in herself, she decided to be in the dance recital from her ballet school. She called Jack to invite him.

“I can’t wait to see this”, he said, thinking that it would give him another chance to make fun of Penelope. But much to his surprise, she was a wonderful dancer. Her feet twirled and pirouetted and glided across the floor. She danced and danced and danced.

When the recital was over, Jack felt badly that he had made fun of Penelope’s feet, so he said, “I’ve learned an important lesson. You can dance even if you have big feet.” “No, silly, that’s not the lesson. The lesson is, you don’t have to listen to what other people say. If you want to do something, you should try to do it.”

“ So, when you grow up, are you going to be a ballerina?” Jack asked.

“I don’t think so, “Penelope answered. I’ve been thinking about it. We should make use of the gifts we’ve been given. Since I have such big feet, I’m going to stomp grapes and make wine.”

MY FACE (sample from "The Mirror Monologues")

Look at this ..the wrinkles, the lines, these textured plains. Seamless once, like gliding on ice. Smooth, creamy, translucent , everything Helena Rubinstein promised. Then, I was Cleopatra, Jezebel, Evita, rollicking, cavorting…. all those glorious summers in the sun, baking like a sunfish. Offering my face to the sun gods…. Young, unscathed. Sure, but clearly, under utilized. . Now my face is a trail on which I track the memories of my life. Right here… the circles from all those champagne toasts for birthdays and anniversaries, graduations. Here , right here, my swan’s neck now flailing about recklessly …gobble gobble. But Sam kisses me here, still, after all these years.. I could nip and tuck it, lift it, I suppose. But why would I change it? Reject it? These lines are from kitchy-cooing with my grandchildren, those plump, joyful, beautiful babies. These are the lines from the losses over the years that I survived, and the lines from the laughter that has sustained me. I see my mother in the mirror, my sister, my daughter. And right here, those freckles, my son. I carry my family with me on this face. I’m going to keep all the lumps and bumps and marks and scars because I am beautiful and will always be as long as I take my history with me and wear it proudly.