A Different Beginning

As many of you know, today is the official release of Insane Roots – A Memoir:

The Adventures of a Con-Artist and Her Daughter

Rochelle-InsaneRoots CVR-LG

And… I have my first book signing scheduled for this Sunday at Barnes & Nobles!

It has been a long beautiful journey to this point and everything seems to be coming together quite nicely 🙂

When I began writing my memoir, I kept getting hung up on where to start. For me the biggest challenge was piecing it all together, which made finding the beginning a bit difficult. Eventually, I took my focus off the end product and delved into the details! Just like that the flood gates were open!

I would like to share with you now a rough draft I wrote during that time as a different beginning for Insane Roots. It is told from my mother’s perspective rather than mine to give it an even more of a twist!

Where is Mom?

Silent and seemingly unfretted she stood there until her daughter was no longer in sight.

“She’ll never forgive me” she thought, as she watched her little girl walk away for what may very well be the last time.

She turned away from the terminal and slowly walked down the busy corridor .  This would be the first time in 12 years that she would be running on her own. Tiffany was getting older and had grown too much of a conscience for a life of crime. There was no other way, everything was catching up with her and she had to leave.

“Tiffany is strong” she thought to herself, “she’s been through this plenty of times.”

She moved through the crowded airport diligently and hurried her way back out to the car.

Slumped in the driver’s seat, her head fell back as she thought of the numb way her body rest on the cushion. Then she thought of Tiffany and the look of her face as they kissed and hugged goodbye. She had told her it was a small trip and they would see each other in a week, but that was never her intention.

She drove home and opened the door to the life she was leaving behind. Making her way to Tiffany’s room, she glanced at ever nook and cranny along the way.  Moving slowly as to take it all in.

The door to her room was labeled “Keep Out” and was decorated with teenage memorabilia of bands and catchy phrases. The door was slightly cracked and seemed as though it was begging her to enter. Opening it with a feeling of intent and purpose,  she fell on the bed, taking in one last smell of the only other familiarity she knew, the person she always clung to; her daughter.

After a few moments of silence and one long deep breathe, she stood up and began picking up the things strewn about the room.  She finished by making the bed and closed the door. A few steps away was her room, the walls cloaked in the life she had pretended would last.

No time for that now. She needed to pack and decide where she would go. It didn’t matter really; anywhere would be safer than here. After throwing some items in a duffle bag she left, just like that.

She did not leave a note and when I called, she was not home…

In the end I am glad I went the other route, but it is interesting to think about where it could have gone from there.

There were a lot of pieces that I didn’t end up using and I’ll try to remember to share them with you from time to time over the next few months.

Thank you reading!



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