About Colors

Sixteen years ago today, on May 15, 2009, I woke in the morning a 53-year-old married mother of three, our youngest still in high school, halfway through my MFA in fiction. By noon, I’d received the biopsy results: rectal cancer.

I’d set my thesis novel, already well underway, in Manhattan and Maine. Multiple plot lines intersected. I gave the protagonist rectal cancer and ditched a few of the other characters.