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About the Author

       Writing for me is an art form I use to draw pictures using words.  If the reader can see those words in their minds the art is complete. Be sure to e mail me your thoughts about the pictures your mind develops.

       Ms. Collier, prolific writer of many different genres says writing has been in her spirit since her mother placed a pencil in her left hand and told her, "God made you a left handed writer for a reason it's up to you to share with the world what that reason is."  A native of Illinois she now resides in Auburn WA.

Helen Collier

Excerpt from Helen Collier's Books below.

 "Looking for Trouble"

Come along with me. I’m Meow, the Louisiana catfish swimming
down the Mississippi River exciting my readers with a bit of wit,
humor and intrigue. We swim right into the hell of insanity with all
its raging madness in “The Scent of Lilac.” “Escape” takes my readers
down the Mississippi in the middle of a monster river gone mad. We
swim farther along and come upon the preacher’s son searching for
“Truth, Honesty and Justice.” “Arthur” takes us into a dark room
where murder comes with a bit of humor. Swimming against the
current, my readers ride along with me to meet “Selina and the Old
Man,” who lived forty years under the earth. For my readers who like
a little humor and intrigue, I’ve got the dead returning for revenge in
“Uncle Willie, USA.” Meow . . . Is city life best for a young country
boy coming of age? We find out in “Because It Is Law Doesn’t Make It
Right.” Meow’s looking for trouble . . . Let’s go find some . . .
At four o'clock in the Afternoon many run to the television and get ready for a relaxing hour of television with Oprah.  Mrs. Johnnie Bea is one of those women. Her story is one of history, change, legacies, beans and a better future through community.  Using her Oprah experience as inspiration she helps those around her to grow and continue the legacy that her father started.

"Tears From  The Healing Tree"

“All the women’s lingerie and toiletry I found came from you?”

“Of course he wouldn’t know what you needed and even if he did with his face messed up and on his deathbed there was nowhere he could go to buy anything without causing alarm over his physical appearance not to mention his condition.  He told me you were his only hope and he couldn’t let you die.” 

“If he had made you aware that his Ms. Anna was black those things for me would never have arrived, nor would you have helped him,” Anna countered hating the eyes staring back at her.

“You are forever using the race card!”

“Race card!”  Anna laughed, “That is the term used by you white racists to make us feel guilty when we call you on your wrongs, no, I’m using the Martin Luther King Jr. card no one explains you white southern racists as well he did unless  it is that mother of mine.”


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