The secret’s out. My alias, “Frumpy Grandma,” is just that, a disguise for my actual identity, “Energized, Empowering Woman Writer.” Whereas I might be: known for mopping carpets and for diapering dolls’ bottoms; branded, especially by my daughters, for wearing shapeless clothing; and remembered for adding nothing more than grunts to my family’s discussions of politics, it is likewise the case that I have many informed opinions, most of which I am grateful to be able to broadcast through my prose.
It’s not so much that I shy from controversy as that I choose to bring my energy to places where my thoughts can count (that is, international blogs and columns, and books). To me, it makes no difference that select “friends” consider me fat or fatuous. What’s important is that I have homes for my positions.
Meanwhile, those “foes of Gotham,” those gossips, have discovered that beyond penning the kind of ideological stuff that gets reprinted, my derring-do has extended to thwarting additional malefic matters. Not only am I fortunate to be regularly published, but I am also, albeit somewhat surreptitiously, fortunate to regularly demonstrate critical and creative thinking. Unsated by decades of university teaching, I currently and boldly go forth with online lessons on developing cognitive skills and on applying those skills to fashioning texts (my drab, shabby couture, notwithstanding).
Most “disreputable” to those chinwags, I unhesitatingly make my provocative moves. Shamelessly, I ask for and receive remuneration for my words and for my instruction on others’ words. Though hearsay has pointed out those successes, I don’t advertise them. Those meddling citizens don’t need to know that my pin money as well as a chunk of my household budget, comes from such goings on.
By disappearing behind my “Frumpy Grandmother” persona, I sidestep strata climbing and am able to use my resources, to generate, and to help other writers generate, lots of pages.