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

20/20 Vision

20/20 is perfect vision. Will 2020 be the year we see with perfect vision the imperfect world we live in…and fix it? Instead of being the worst year in most of our memories (covid confinement, unemployment, weather, protests); could this be the most important year?

I am heartened to see the numbers of protesters. 
I am heartened that the protests have continued. 
I am heartened that white people are marching too.
I am heartened that worldwide people march with us.

None of this would have happened if a very brave teenage girl hadn’t stood near the police and recorded them. None of this would have happened if the world hadn’t seen the casualness in which a cop crushed a man’s neck for nearly nine minutes.. Is crushed the right word? Yes. Putting your full weight on a person’s throat is “crushing”. It's murder. It's murder. It's blatant arrogant murder over a bad $20 bill. Murder.

Statues honoring men who fought to keep slavery intact are coming down. Military bases named for such men will be renamed, but probably not until the racist-in-chief is booted.

Will things change? Will my neighbors have confidence when fifteen-year-old Zavier goes running that he’ll come safely home? Zavier is a sweet, tall boy who came over to shovel our driveway on a nasty winter day. Can I stop worrying about these specific boys: Dante, Zavier and Janet’s sons Michael and Rhyan. We live in a quiet suburban neighborhood, and yet because of the color of their skin, these boys are always at risk.

Some people like to say, "All Lives Matter." They're right. All lives do matter. But Black lives haven't mattered, and that's the problem. That's the issue. If Black lives mattered, it wouldn't be necessary to have video proof of violence.

Declaration of Independence
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

Our slave-owning forefathers designated our country as a place with LIBERTY AND JUSTICE FOR ALL. They didn’t intend (it surely never crossed their minds) that their words included black men (or women or indigenous people)...but I do.

We do.

My evidence: just look at the marchers: 76% of Americans agree with the protesters.

2020 will be a year we opened our eyes. 
2020 will be a year we opened our hearts.
2020 will be a most important year in our lives.


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