About

Here’s who I am…

Although I attended four high schools: Ferndale, Michigan—seven months, Palo Alto, California—four months; Birmingham Michigan—two years; and San Mateo, California—three months, I’m a high school drop out.

Before I was twenty-four, I had moved twenty-one times. Don’t feel sorry for me. It’s all food for the laptop.

I’ve had two husbands—both named John (which prevents confusion). The first one was nice, the second one’s a keeper. I have a daughter, a son, two stepdaughters, six grandchildren, a daughter-in-law, and two sons-in-law.

In grade school I wanted to be an architect, a justification for chopping up cardboard boxes. In high school I wanted to be an illustrator, or a writer, or a painter, or a wife and mom.

After I was a wife and mom, I also wanted to be smart, so I took night classes and spent several hundred credit hours at Oakland Community College, Wayne State University and The College For Creative Studies. I was good at writing and good at art (my teachers said so). I wrote newspaper articles and a children’s book that were published. And two novels and ten children’s books that weren’t.

Once I had a job as an editor, but I wanted to be in the art department, so I became a graphic designer. I did that for a long time—years and years and years (decades). I loved the work and handled the stress. Then I got breast cancer, decided life might be short, and started painting full time. There were art galleries, and art shows, and art fairs. When I got tired of doing that, I went back to writing. This time around: two novels and a memoir, so far.

And that’s what I’m doing now. For two weeks in the summer I write in an old trailer at John’s family farm in Wisconsin. The rest of the time I write in Michigan, where I can see the Detroit Zoo water tower from my window.

Lynn Arbor—Writer

Latest Post

159 Russians

I’ve been invaded. 

You may have noticed that I haven’t been posting much in the past few months or even in the past year. Excuses: Depression, Black funk (possibly related to our Commander in Cheat). So, I wasn’t paying much attention to what the Russians were doing on my website.

Yes, RUSSIANS!

No joke. 

When I sent my last post out 10 days ago, I used my mail service, MailChimp. I designed my email, and hit the send button. And Voila, you got an email from me. The next day I went back into MailChimp to check on how many people opened the email. 

Be aware...I can see who opens their email. 

Much to my surprise my mailing list had grown from 108 subscribers to 267. The email addresses looked legitimate. Funny thing though, 155 didn’t have normal first or last names.

Oh, hi there, 5cbccba1dea9f  5sbssba1deade. Nice to meet you. Where are you from? How did you come upon my website to sign up?

I've learned about REDACTING lately. Email addresses of real people are redacted above.

On MailChimp you can check the profiles of your subscribers. In all these years I’ve never clicked on anyone’s name, because I already knew all my subscribers. But I don’t know who Mr. 5sbssba1deade is. So I clicked. Language: Russian. So I checked more names, all 155 were Russian. Then I clicked on their locations—Austria, Moldova, Netherlands (I didn’t check everyone). Then I started deleting people. 

I was bumping off the Russians! 

I am an Assassinator.

But the Russian Invasion kept me up all that night. Why me? What did they want with my blog?

Theory 1. They’re trying to learn casual English, so that when they invade our social media to try to steal the next election, they’ll sound like us.

Theory 2. They’re simply malicious hackers.

Theory 3. They’re Bots. Robots. One of the Bots included her photo—she’s very scary. I wonder if her image was stolen by the Russians?

After deleting 155 Russians on Easter Sunday, I woke up yesterday and there was a new one. And as of this moment there are four more. 

Yesterday I wanted to contact MailChimp tech support, but since I wasn’t a paid subscriber to the service, I wasn’t allowed. My mailing list is under 500, so I’ve had a free account for the past ten years. 

So I signed up...for $10 a month I can get tech services. After an hour or two yesterday, and a small amount of hair pulling and desk pounding, I figured out how to contact them.

Just this minute, as I'm writing this, I got an email response! 

Chimp says what I have is “Spambots.” I don’t think it’s contagious. Measles are going around because some stupid shits don’t vaccinate their kids.

Solution (but not to the measles problem): Chimp said I did good by deleting the Russians. Now I need to add something to my signup form to block them.

So... to my writing friends, if you have a mail service, check your audience.

And if you find Russians lurking in your space...wipe them out.

more...

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Nope. Sorry. But if you’d like to get email notices warning you that I’ve added something new to my website, like for instance a very juicy and exciting new blog post, or what’s happening with my latest struggle to figured out all the ins and outs of promoting my new novel, and living my life, then go ahead and sign up for my mailing list.

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