The most important piece of writing advice I’ve ever received is from Molly Krause: “You may write about whatever you want, for the sole reason that you want to.”

We each have a story.
You have a story.
I have a story.
This blog is home to my story —
the Pieces of my Truth.

“You should be writing something else right now,” one of the voices in my head, which sounds identical to my own voice, just said. We’re always shoulding on ourselves, aren’t we?

Spoiler alert: I’ve been a writer my whole life. Except, much like my, “I’ll-only-run-when-being-chased” Exercise Philosophy (and, frankly, even that statement is highly suspect), for the most part, I’ve only written on command: for college assignments; as a part of my duties as an officer for the state interpreting association; or to develop presentations for work. Although I’ve always enjoyed writing – the composition formulation, the actual pen-to-paper translation of thought to glyph, and even the proofreading (my literary superpower) and editing – I’ve never, until recently, written for fun.

And then I had a stroke. What They tell us a stroke feels like, anyway.  Allofthescans later, the doctors decided I had not had a stroke. But they weren’t sure what had happened. Was I having transient ischemic attacks? Was my blood spontaneously forming tiny clots, which were then just as spontaneously dissolving? What else could it be? At barely forty-one, none of those options sounded appealing.

Luckily, it turned out to not be any of those things. Diagnosis: hemiplegic migraine – migraine activity that mimics a stroke, including temporary partial loss of vision; numbness or tingling in the face, head, neck, oral cavity, and/or extremities; nausea and/or vomiting; and partial or total paralysis on the affected side. Did you know that the main symptoms of migraine activity sometimes don’t include a headache? I didn’t, either.

Now I’ve got a shiny new beta blocker, and some other assorted supplements. A few weeks after my “stroke,” I was compelled to once again open my spiral-bound, college-ruled notebooks, and fill them with Uni-ball gel-inked musings.

I write creative non-fiction. Currently, I am working between a book of essays about my experiences as an infertility survivor who never had my own children, and a memoir about my partner’s in-progress transition to the man he has always been. Along the way are also bits and pieces about his children, our dogs, and other adventures (and misadventures). So sit down, strap in, and come along for the ride! Maybe even share some of the pieces of your story along the way.


Do you have a literary superpower? If so, what is it?
If you could have any superpower, what would it be?
Have you faced a major turning point in your life? If so, what have you learned as a result of the experience?

11 thoughts on “Permission

  1. Minyoung Kang says:

    It is silly but if I have any superpower, it is my dream. Most of dreams are not meaningful but I meet so many people all around world in my dream. Sometimes I saw the event in my dream and it really happened in my life although this case was very rare. So I have a dream power. Believe or not, it is awesome. 🙂


  2. laurabooksandblogs says:

    I love stories about how people use writing to overcome a major obstacle, especially health-related issues. Thanks for sharing.
    I’d say that my literary superpower is dialogue. It’s what gets the most praise in workshops.
    If I could have an actual superpower, it would be telekinesis. I’ve always been drawn to fictional characters with that power: Carrie White, Jean Grey, Eleven, etc.
    A major turning point in my life happened last year when my boss died, her mother and my co-worker had died, my other co-worker left to have a baby, and I was left by myself in an empty office. It really got me in gear to find a new job after 10 years in the same office surrounded by a close family of people and to start fresh. It has allowed me to focus more on my writing which has led to some notable writing credits and pointed me in the right direction to turning this into a career.


    1. amy eff says:

      Hi, Laura—thank you for stopping by, and thank you for sharing. Dialog is a fabulous literary superpower to have! Telekinesis would be an über-cool power to have IRL. It’s interesting, the things that move us to change. I’m glad you’ve found a path. 💕 —af


  3. Emily Ryan says:

    Thank you for sharing this personal journey of both yourself and your husband. I would say I am now child free by choice but also struggled with my diagnosis of infertility. Writing can be a powerful tool for processing complex emotions, particularly about something as significant as health issues and your partner’s transition! I look forward to reading more about your life experiences as well as your creative works. Great post 😊


    1. amy eff says:

      Thank you, Emily. I agree, writing has been a very powerful tool for me—it helps to get things out of my head and on paper or on a screen… it solidifies things in a way that isn’t possible when the thoughts are just swirling about in my noggin. Thank you for your comment, and thank you for following!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Emily Ryan says:

        I am exactly the same! Especially when you are thinking of so many different things at once, or cannot find the words yourself for what you mean to say to others. No problem! 🙂


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s