About

Hi, Ramona Grigg here. I’m so glad you’ve found my page and even happier that you chose to click on here to see who I am. Some of you may know me already, but chances are most of you don’t. So a little history:

I write under my own name and almost always have. When I first started getting bylines, way back in the 1980s, I was Mona Grigg. Now I use my whole name, Ramona, but if you go looking for my early work you probably won’t find it. Most of it was published before the internet as we know it became a thing. So you’ll just have to take my word for it when I say:

I’ve written freelance for airline and regional magazines, for city and local newspapers (notably the Detroit Free Press and the Observer Newspapers in the Detroit suburbs, as well as the Jewish News). I had long-running columns in local chains for a few years. One started out as a personal humor column but soon morphed into a rant against the Reagan Administration, and the other was about books and the amazing writers who produced them in and around Detroit. (The most fun EVER.)

I was president of Detroit Women Writers (now Detroit Working Writers), a speaker and session leader at our long-running, always sold-out Writers Conferences held at Oakland University, a recipient of a state grant to write a book I never finished. I’m ashamed, yes, but, since our odious governor at the time, John Engler, screwed me and a lot of other writers out of half of it (long, sad story), I’m not nearly as ashamed as I should be.

I’ve taught classes on Creative Writing, and I can confess now that once I dismissed a writer’s work when she was unjustifiably proud of it, and I’ve never forgotten how mean that was. I’ve written about writing many times since, and I’ve tried really hard not to take the joy away from any writer–though I make no bones about the fact that simply calling yourself a writer doesn’t mean you’re a writer. It’s a fine line between dumping on and easing out, and I’m still working on it.

Anyway, there you have it. Probably more than you wanted to know but nobody forced you to keep reading, I’d like to gently remind you.

I’m an old woman now and a Michigander, born and bred. I live on a remote island off of the Upper Peninsula, accessible only by boat or plane. We have peace and quiet and we have internet. I have a lot of time to think and write, and my BS-meter works well there. I’m doing okay.

I’ll keep on writing until the day I die. That’s a promise to myself and I plan to keep it. I’ll never be famous, but I’ll always be around.

Thanks for hanging with me.

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