Ann became aware in second grade she had an overdeveloped sense of justice when she whacked Bill Bailey (yes that was his name) over the head with her lunch box for cutting in the milk line. The resulting justice meted out, detention for four days by Mr. Hard, the principal, was hard to stomach. Bill Bailey got off scot free leaving Ann to howl “that’s not fair, he broke the unwritten rules of the queue!” Now some forty years later she wields a pen (or realistically a MacBook Pro) instead of a metal box and probes this visceral reaction to injustice that so long ago left her with a dented lunch pal.
Word-crafter, truth seeker, incurable idealist, she is used to people telling her but that isn’t how the world works. Instead of nodding in agreement, or shrugging it off, Ann asks, why not? With her life partner she refuses to marry, learning the first time around, there is no justice in the dissolving of that union, she writes with passion and purpose.
A quirky sense of humor and a deep belief in the impermanence of life, not all of her tales are as heavy as would seem with such a weighty topic as Justice. Sarcasm and dark humor race through much of her work leaving the reader entertained with the short sharp mind candy. Because without injustice, how would we know what justice means?
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