My Story Diann
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I would like to introduce myself. My name is Diann Shaddox, and I grew up in southwest Arkansas, in a rural town where Main Street features diagonal parking, old brick buildings that house a bank, an old-fashioned pharmacy, and even a Dime Store. The small town of Nashville is surrounded by farms and rolling countryside and is a modest but quaint southern town where football still reigns supreme. A town that brought my imagination to life, hot summer evenings catching fireflies, riding bikes all over the small town, and swimming in creeks and pristine blue lakes.
I’m still a true southern girl, but my imagination in my books spreads across the world, with fantasy books that begin in Maine, the city of Boston, and San Francisco, and they even go to the remote Greek islands. I’m a Native American and a member of the Wyandotte Nation. I also have a collection of Native American children’s tales that I’m working on for future books. |
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I was born on December 18th in a small southern town of Nashville, Arkansas, the youngest and only daughter of William and Mary Ann. But, fate stepped in and William, a crop-duster, at the age of 25, died in a plane crash on November 20th, a month before I was born. Therefore, I never met my father. After my father's death, my mother, who grew up in Miami, Oklahoma (a member of the Wyandotte Nation), moved back to Miami. So I lived in Miami until my mother died, when I was 3 years old.
After my mother's death, my brother and I moved back to Nashville, Arkansas, to live with my grandparents, Granddaddy & Mamow. At the age of 9, my granddaddy died of a stroke, leaving Mamow alone to see to us. |
The day I went to live with Granddaddy & Mamow
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Mamow, Diann, & Rebel
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I learned from an early age about death and how life should not be squandered. Mamow, who had lost her right hand in an accident at a factory in Nashville, Arkansas, taught me that you never give up and never let anything stand in your way. Mamow taught herself to write, cook, and even sew and make quilts, all with her left hand, without the aid of prosthetics. Being handicapped was a word she never used.
Growing up with Mamow in a small town was wonderful, learning to fish, growing a garden, and, most importantly, the patience of a grandmother. Stories from the past evolved from family, bringing many tales to life. Sitting out late at night on cool summer evenings, swinging on an old swing, staring up at the stars, helped my vivid imagination grow. |
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As for most people, life moved on quickly for me, graduating from Nashville High School, a real Scrapper, college, marrying my sweetheart Randy, having children, letting my dreams of so many characters stay in my head.
After I married, I moved to Louisville, KY, then to Princeton, NJ; Burke, Virginia; back to Louisville, KY; Bonita Springs, FL; Leander, TX, and then to Aiken, SC. My life stayed way too busy, and years just seemed to fly by. However, since I was very young, stories after stories flowed in my mind, but I pushed them to the side, hoping they would just disappear. They didn’t. |
Diann in Louisville KY
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Leander, TX
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So, I gave in.
It was 2005, and I sat down in my office in Leander, TX, and began to write. I didn’t think or plan what I was going to write about. I just let the first story begin, then the next story, and the next one. Love stories, sci/fi, and children’s stories emerged. But, (there’s always a but). It was December 18th, my birthday, and I was now living in Aiken, SC. Late that night, I couldn’t sleep, so I went into my office, which I had named my cubby. I sat down at my computer and stared at my hands. They were shaking uncontrollably, making it difficult to type. As I call it, like fluttering birds' wings. The tremors grew, as did my anger. I looked at the computer screen, my hands typed, “Happy Birthday dumb-ass!” You see, those words brought A Faded Cottage to life. |
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I will step back in time so that you will understand my hand tremors. When I was in my early twenties, I stood at the post office window in Louisville, KY, and couldn’t even fill out a simple form with my name and address because my hand was shaking. How a task so simple, and how embarrassing, but my hand wouldn’t write. I could hear the whispers and comments from people standing in the line behind me. The confused look on the post office clerk's face told the entire story.
I had been taught not to show my feelings in public, but tears flowed down my face as I raced out of the building clutching my package in my arms. That one day made me angry, and I had to find my answer. After talking to 3 doctors telling me that I was just nervous, I finally found a Neurologist and discovered that I had Essential Tremor. I was relieved to know what I had, but didn’t understand what Essential Tremor was. I thought I was the only person in the world with this disease. I thought I was some kind of freak and tried to hide my shaky hand. I used more energy hiding my tremors than just living my life. As time moved on, so did my tremors, and I couldn’t hide anymore. People began to question and stare at me, wondering why I was nervous or thinking maybe I was on drugs or just plain weird. Being out in public was difficult; the stares were tough. Even being in a doctor’s office was difficult. The nurses questioned and even chastised me when they tried to take my blood pressure, and my arm would shake. Normal activities became huge obstacles. |
Louisville, KY age 27
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Through my writing I found out I wasn’t alone. At my book signings I began to hear stories from other people living with ET, stories that were so similar to mine. I no longer felt alone and became empowered to inform people about Essential Tremor.
I knew something had to be done. So, I became an activist to bring awareness for ET and I founded the Diann Shaddox Foundation for Essential Tremor (DSF) a National non-profit organization. The Diann Shaddox Foundation for Essential Tremor, (DSF) mission is to educate and increase awareness about people afflicted with Essential Tremor and to find new treatments and a cure for ET. My end goal is to unite the Essential Tremor community and help us all with ET live productive healthy lives. My vision is a life without Essential Tremor. I believe by raising our voices together, we will be heard worldwide and bring a change for Essential Tremor |
Essential Tremor (ET) is a progressive and highly prevalent neurologic disease that causes a rhythmic trembling of the hands, head, voice, legs, or body. ET can begin at any age, from birth to 100 and doesn't discriminate with age, race, sex, or national origin.
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May the power of many voices bring peace to all.
www.diannshaddoxfoundation.org |
I hope my joy of bringing new books to life will continue for years to come. I know that my own book of life has new pages being added each day, and it’s up to each of us to decide what our Lifebooks will contain.
The zest for meeting and getting to know people is a very important component to me. I am a believer in herbs, natural and organic foods, and a strong supporter of Bio-identical Hormones and preserving our planet's greenery. Escaping to worlds unknown in a book is exhilarating, and I hope my ideas and dreams are inexhaustible with many years of writing. Now, both my hands, head, legs, and voice tremor. I also lose my balance. Even though the stares of my tremors will forever be, I won’t give up. Please join me, and together we will find a cure for Essential Tremor. A portion of the proceeds from the sale of my books go to the Diann Shaddox Foundation for Essential Tremor. Diann XO |
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A journal of a famous artist , not of his life, but of only two weeks.
The story begins when Essential Tremor takes over the body of a famous artist. A simple feat of holding a paintbrush turns Quaid Witherspoon’s life upside down, leaving him bitter. Quaid had everything money could buy, except the two things he loved the most: his love of painting great masterpieces and the only woman he had ever loved. The calming waters off the coast of South Carolina call Quaid back to Hathaway Cove, to a small, faded cottage, one with a leaning front porch, worn paint so similar to him, flawed. The same beach where he began painting as a young boy, the place he met his one true love, and the place he let her go. This is his journal of only two weeks, a story of endless love, his tale of living with ET, and the strength and power of love |
A Faded Cottage,
A Christmas love story. A Story blending fact and fiction. Quaid had everything money could buy, except two things he loved most: his love of painting great masterpieces and the only woman he had ever loved. 
Go to A Faded Cottage to learn more.
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Artwork by Frances Clardy
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A tribute to my son Rick who died of a cancerous stage-four brain tumor. May 20, 2014. A tribute to my son Rick, who died of a cancerous stage-four brain tumor, Glioblastoma , May 20, 2014.
My son’s life was ended way too quickly, and the question of why will never be answered. I learned at a very young age that trying to find the answer to why a tragedy occurs is a waste of precious time. I taught my son to live his life to the fullest and he lived more in his short life than many people live in a lifetime. I believe we all have a purpose in life. My son touched so many lives, giving them smiles from his laughter, a strong shoulder to lean on, and he left them with joy and a drive to continue and never give up, no matter what life throws at you. My son will never be gone, since his memory will live in my heart forever. Being a writer, I will keep his stories alive to tell his children and anyone who will listen. Stories that will make you laugh, and cry, and bring out the love deep inside of you. There is a simple message I want to leave with everyone: smile more often, let the little things in life that bother you fade away, live each day to the fullest, and tell your loved ones how much you love them. I don’t have the magic button to take the sorrow and pain away, but my life will continue, whether it is for one more day, month, or many, many years, and I will always remember my sweet baby boy. |
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