Updated: Aug 25, 2019
Long, long ago, in a sunny, too-hot office in Georgia, sits a girl at a desk. Rather than focus on her work, she picks up the phone, dials her sister’s desk number and happily reads to her the latest chapter. The guffaws, sniffles and snorts from too much laughter, and breathless sentences that start with “Th-that s-s-sounds like som-something I would do!!” informs the girl in the too hot office that she is on to something. By gar, she is going to be an author. And, oh, isn’t she. Far, far in the future perhaps. In a future that is filled with much, much, MUCH more than she expects, imagines or wants.
N. Annette Knight is that girl. Truthfully, she is no longer a girl. Even more truthfully, she wasn’t much of a girl then. However, now she finally approaches that golden rectangle of age and wisdom when things finally, FINALLY go her way, never to run awry again. She writes that sentence with smirks, cynical wisdom and resignation. Though the future of long ago brings more slam-bang time-takers than she ever wished for, with all those things comes an insidious and sly understanding of how to make neat stacks and bide time, while eating doughnuts and buried beneath a pile of to-do lists and responsibilities. Authorship will come. N. Annette Knight is destined to hold the door open while staring at it with mouth agog (filled with doughnut) and utterly nonplussed.