Hello! My name is Marcia Gage. I have spent most of my life surrounded by books. Subsequently, I learned at an early age to love both reading and writing.
In my professional life I have worked in sales and retention, fundraising, training and management for arts, political, environmental organizations and for online universities. In all my positions I have experience in writing scripts, ads, training manuals and, of course, emails and letters to clients, students and donors.
I have an MS in Psychology and I am also a Master Herbalist. Throughout my studies in psychology I have written a number of papers focusing on eating disorders, health and wellness and alternative medicine.
Other interests include travel and experiencing different cultures, music, reading, food, gardening, politics and baseball. I enjoy incorporating my knowledge of classical music, herbalism, gardening, politics, travel and Psychology into my writing.
I also have experience designing and writing for websites and product pages. I have participated in online product, restaurant, hotel and travel reviews.
I am the author of three books: Buried Love: A Hoarder’s Journey, Soulmate Hunting After 40: The Mature Guide to Finding and Keeping Love and Happiness and the revised version for all adults, Soulmate Hunting: Beyond Clubbing: The Mature Guide to Finding and Keeping Love and Happiness. I also have a short story, The Asian Lady available on Amazon.
I am the mother of four adult sons and five grandchildren and three step grandchildren. For several years, I have lived with my husband in a downtown high-rise in Minneapolis we love urban living and all it has to offer.
My husband and I are currently living in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico and co-authoring a blog about our experience. “Mexico Bound Boomers: Paupers in Paradise.
I believe that good writing consists of accuracy, creativity and in many cases, a sense of humor. My goal is to inform, inspire and entertain my audience.
Olivia Jacobs was undeniably beautiful and smart. She was charming, witty and seemingly together. She appeared to make friends and find romance easily.
But Liv had a secret. She would suffer one tragic loss after another and with little knowledge of her birth parents, the Psychological disorder she inherited would manifest itself in a way that could destroy her future. Liv was a hoarder.
Deep down she knew she had a problem, but as she watched the sensationalized television shows she was able to minimize or even temporarily deny it. She was not an old woman, missing half her teeth and living among rotting food, garbage and dead animals. She was young, attractive, and well educated.
Her continuing education would eventually help her understand that Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, (from which hoarding is one manifestation), was a genetic disorder in which without help would be very difficult to control.
Would she recognize real love and kindness and allow it to help her come to grips and deal with her illness, thereby finding true happiness? Her journey would require humility, bravery and most of all love.
Liv Jacobs loved Sundays. On Sundays she awoke between clean 1200 count white cotton sheets, smelling freshly ground coffee with a Verdi or Puccini masterpiece in the background. She loved Robert for being a coffee snob and grinding the fresh beans every Sunday morning. She would not have minded, perhaps, some rock or even jazz on those mornings, but to Robert it wasn’t Sunday without an opera in the background.
She was living in a chic but sterile loft in Pioneer Square near downtown Seattle with a City Councilman who also happened to be a legal aid attorney and her fiancé.
Robert Gardner was a City Councilman largely due to Liv’s hard work and he loved her for it. He fell in love with her as she was working on his campaign. The long hours never seemed to dim her sense of humor or her healthy good looks.
Liv was the perfect candidate for her management position at Progressive Campaigns. After earning a 4.0 in Political Science from Western Washington State, her scholarships along with activist and bookstore jobs helped her earn an MBA at Seattle University. She had worked part-time and volunteered for political candidates since she was 16, partially, at least, to escape a difficult adolescence.
She found her job at Progressive Campaigns rewarding and sometimes even exciting, most of the time she didn’t really mind the long hours and somewhat unreasonable demands. She was proud of her job, but she never worked on Sundays.
Liv was at work to get things done. She did not dress to impress Robert, other men, or anyone else for that matter. Even when tying her thick black hair severely back and wearing her baggy khakis and a not so revealing olive sweater she couldn’t hide her loveliness from Robert.
He strategically started wooing her three months into the campaign, asking her out for a glass of wine or light dinner after a long day (supposedly to exchange professional ideas).
But then there was the Fundraiser. Liv had arranged for a local gallery owner to hold an event where 50% of the profits for all art sold that night went to Robert’s campaign. Liv made sure the champagne was flowing and the pate’ and caviar were equally as plentiful. Her usual slacks, sweater and mules were replaced by the classic little black dress and satin pumps. The ponytail gave way to long dark curls and even cherry red lipstick and a touch of eye makeup made a rare appearance.
Robert knew then he wanted to marry her. He would wait until after the election and show her a whirlwind courtship including a proposal in Rome at the Trevi Fountain. After she had thrown her coin in the fountain Robert surprised her with a ring and a public proposal as people surrounding the fountain cheered in several different languages. Liv had no choice but to say yes.
Liv had been living with Robert for just over a year. The perfect destination wedding was to take place as soon as the mayoral race was over. Liv was working on the incumbent’s campaign and Robert was supporting him as well, with the promise that the next term would be his.
She rolled over to the side of the bed to pick up her nightshirt off the floor, an evening of too many beers after work lead to an exhausting night of lovemaking. Liv’s blue silk nightshirt was really just about the only thing out of place in the loft. Robert was a minimalist and everything had its place. Consequently, Liv had very little at the loft. She kept most of her things in storage agreeing with Robert, their place needed to be a showplace for political gatherings.