The stuff that actually gets shared, that is.

If you really wanted to know me, though, you’d find the white 3-ring binder on the top of my bookcase and password protected place deep on my hard drive where I keep the real goods – 40+ years of dark poems about my broken heart or my mother’s cancer, horror stories about suburban neighborhood social scenes, strange but true tales from my friends’ divorces and bracingly irreverent and sometime bawdy humor pieces about the ridiculousness of being married, having kids, trying to balance it all.

All of this last material is so shockingly different than my more public writing that recently I have been struggling to find a way to understand how it will fit in with my other work – you know, the work I get paid for.  Here in mid-life, I feel like I have developed multiple personality disorder – the “Good Elizabeth” who writes insightful, well researched commentary for professional journals and develops Leadership Adventure stories on one side,  and then, the “Naughty Lizzy” to has no problem talking about sex, deep sadness, secret lives, and the slow maturing of my body. Can I really be two different writers with polar opposite voices? And do these two women who write through me even know each other? Should they?

The other day, as we got ready for dinner, my dear friend and fellow 40-something writer, Lucy and I stood at the kitchen counter, washing salad fixings and discussing my dilemma. “What you need,” she said as she ripped lettuce, “is a pen name. Something a little sleazy for the first name and then something hard at the end.” We then spent the next 15 minutes doubled up laughing as we tried out new personas. “Marilyn Hoover”, “Terrina Schultz”, “Amanda Del Gato”, “Marielle Smith” and then finally it hit.

For now, I’m calling “Naughty Lizzy” “Layla Brown.” She reflects the other side of myself. She’s a down home, do-right girlfriend who has been there and done that. Layla will, given the right circumstances, take stupid risks – flirt with disaster, feel heartbroken over the loss of a friend, drive to the desert with new friends from South of the Border and get inappropriately involved in other people’s business.

And riskiest of all – “Layla Brown” will write about it.

I’m Molly Rosen, editor of this new collection of essays written by women about this remarkable decade in our lives.This book started as a personal quest of mine when, on the eve of turning 40, I searched for a book written by real women like me  that could guide me as I moved into this next stage of my life. Finding nothing, I decided to write my own book. I put out the idea to my Working Mom’s Group and other friends and colleagues (who sent it out to their networks…) and finally to the world in a Call for Submissions.

After receiving nearly 100 amazing essays, our editorial review team narrowed it down to 32 voices and their remarkable stories. We have Kym’s revelations in marriage, Sonia’s new life after divorce, Anita’s happy single life, Nancy’s rock passion, Esther’s  ups and downs with Weight Watchers, Kim’s community of women, Elizabeth’s relationship with God, Maria’s loss of her mother, Erin’s struggle to get hers sober and finally, Jennifer’s realization that sometimes living a life that is Good Enough is better than Never Enough.  I invite you to join us by telling your story.

Along the way, I realized that turning 40 also meant that rite of passage of my first mammogram, and the yearly reminder that Breast Cancer is a major threat as we move into the next few decades. I polled those involved in the project and was amazed to find out that 87% of us have been affected by this disease already – either personally or through a close friend or family member. As a community, we decided to donate all profits to Breast Cancer education and advocacy through the national non-profit Breast Cancer Action (www.bcaction.org). Our goal is to sell 13, 000 copies of the book and raise $50,000.

So, everything we do for Knowing Pains is a volunteer effort. Even this! You can help. Buy the book, spread the word and Tell YOUR Story right here on the Knowing Pains Blog!

Stay tuned as we get this going. With you and your stories, we’re just getting started…

Molly