My book is about a frail, sensitive little girl with tender emotions having to grow up with no guidance or help. I lived in the deep woods in the mountains of Virginia in the 40s and 50s with very little contact or understanding of the outside world. One of the strongest sources of support was my Aunt Mamie, who surely must have loved me. She guided me as best she could for what time I got to spend with her. She taught me to braid my hair and how to crochet and cook some, and she told me I was pretty.

After this childhood I was totally unprepared for life. I had little to no social skills but I watched and I learned. I was determined there was a better way of life and I made my way better. I realized I was more than the little girl with a lump on her back that didn't belong, I was a worthy person.

I was denied a formal education, although I did manage to complete the tenth year. The hardest thing to accept as an adult is that I didn't understand I had choices. I raised a wonderful daughter and have two fantastic grandchildren. I was a successful antiques dealer and owned my own shop for over forty years. I like to paint with oils and I like drawing with pencil; I am creative. I have written several children's stories and I write poems. Some of my poems reflect my life and I do jail ministry and I write pomes for the ladies in jail.

I wrote this book mostly for the family years back. Last year my granddaughter told me she had a book she wanted me to read, I read it and loved it. I was reading in bed and when I finished the book I said, "You know what?" The next day, I started, and typed my book, My Name Is Patricia, chapter by chapter. I compared my book to the book I had just read and thought, my life (book) is just as bizarre and unusual. The biggest difference in my book and the other book is mine is not fiction, the other was. As I wrote so many memories came to me and I was able to include them in my book. There were some happy memories, the days swimming in the Clench River and the nice people that crossed my path. The life I lived, no matter what, made me who I am. My life was mostly a life of not understanding and fear, a gripping fear. I thought most every day, "if Daddy was home, I would see Mother die at his hands," a fear no child should have to live with.

I took a chance and sent my book in to see if it could be published and here it is. My hope is, for the ones who read it, they realize that a person can survive. Writing this book and having it published is very healing and humbling. I got to tell my story. I survived and became me.