GregAlan Williams

Eight years, three editors, and a world of writing and research later, it's finally finished; the book I began writing a year before my mother died.

Though not my first book, it is the first novel. Did it really take me nearly a decade to create two-hundred and twenty-four pages of historical, relationship-based, fiction? Probably not. It did, however require at least half that time to learn how to write a novel worthy of being read.

I've been writing seriously, since middle-school. (we called it Junior High back then). Mom made me write orations for speech contests in the hope that I'd win a few scholarships for college. I did win a couple of those contest but most importantly, I stopped being afraid of writing.

Over the years, while building my acting career, I've worked as a journalist, commercial copywriter, ghost speechwriter, and television script writer. During that time I've met a slew of people, including some of my children, who are terrified at the prospect of having to convey their own thoughts via the written word (text messaging excepted). I was scared too. Slouched at our kitchen table at thirteen, surrounded by writing tablet, dictionary, and thesaurus, mom perched on her metal, vinyl-topped stool, sipping coffee, “I don't know how to write.” I moaned. And, for the life of me, it never occurred to my, I'd-rather-being-playing-basketball, brain, how I might learn. Still, she insisted, no, demanded, that I try.

My first book was about my involvement in the LA Riots of 1992. After rescuing a fellow citizen at the intersection of Florence and Normandie, the media spoke of me as some kind of special black man, one different from the brothers and sisters whose pain and outrage had driven them to turn a blind eye to the suffering of the Latino, Asian, and white victims of the day's violence. Compelled to set the record straight, I wrote, A Gathering of Heroes-- not a recollection of my own, so-called, heroism, but a testament to the heroes and sheroes who had gathered throughout my life to save me from myself. For as surely as I write these words, there was a time, prior to that fateful day in '92, when I would have shown up to harm instead of help.

In 2001, While working with the brilliantly talented Lynn Thigpen on the television series The District, I came to realize just how invisible women “of a certain age” often become. Lynn, in her fifties, was the show's second lead, next to Craig T. Nelson. It was the first time in the history of prime-time television that a middle-aged woman of color had been depicted as having a successful shot at a real relationship; romance, commitment, sex, and all! For three grand seasons, the series was a hit, until the spring when Lynn died suddenly of a cerebral hemorrhage. For a time, however, millions of “grown”African-American women flocked to the tube each week to see the smart, professional, Ella, (Lynn's character), find love, motherhood, and a damn good, successful, sexy black man. ME!

I'd be in airports and sisters would come up to me wagging perfectly manicured fingers, “You'd better not hurt Ella,” they'd smile playfully. One of the shows young black writers used to check in with the forty-plus women in his parent's church to make sure he was on point with Ella's story lines. Ella was something new, that's for sure. In an industry that went from celebrating white folks only, to one which celebrated only young folks and flawlessness (regardless of color), the full, rounded, TV life of Lynn's character was, though short-lived, a miracle in itself.

Lynn and The District reintroduced me to the women I would spend so many days and nights thinking of and writing for- women of my own generation. Women who danced to the same songs I danced to. Woman for whom the fifties, sixties, seventies, and eighties, were times of growing up, great discovery, romance, and high times. Women who are as beautiful and as worthy of celebration now, as ever they were.

So, here it is, Heart of a Woman. Mamma's not here to read it...but you are (she'd probably skip the good parts anyway).

Enjoy,

GregAlan

P.S. Don't forget to visit the website and listen to, or read the first two chapters for as my guest! http://www.heartofawoman.us/