Mid-century modern : an illustrated book of selective stories before I become invisible

Summary: I was born right in the middle of the 20th century. Thus, the title. Like the furniture. Like the houses. But unlike the houses and the furniture, I'm not sleek, I'm not angular, I'm not uncluttered, I'm not minimal - though lord knows I'd like to be all of the above. I like to say that if you know me, you know a thing or two about me. The question is, what do I know about me? And what does anyone know about my "demographic"? To try and figure all this out, I created a hybrid of stories, illustrations and home photos. And never, ever underestimate the power of the good, old fashioned home photo. Writing with humor about women, aging and identity isn't easy these days, but I am, for the record, a SWF living the concepts, and with this wildly illustrated book, I'm adding my voice. Working on the principle that deep down, everyone wants to be an artist, and with my trusty iPad2 and a stylus in hand, I spent hours upon hours in this tiny electronic space/studio. The result is somewhat autobiographical although I do stretch the truth.. just a little. It's a book about then and now. I begin at start with some context - like the fact that WWII was only "officially" over in 1951 and the word "McCarthyism" entered the language. I deal with several defining moments in my childhood and adolescence, taking things up to the age of 22. I also write about Citroen cars, 1968, plane spotting, knotty family relationships, the origin story of my bad posture and more. I skip over the next 28 years (as one does) to 2001, a time to restart for a number of reasons, some of them obvious. Here I touch on insomnia, hot flashes, hair, makeup and age-appropriate clothing among other things, including things that really do matter. And there are things that really do matter - to the point of exasperation - including contemporary politics and the creeping invisibility many women experience as they age. Finally, I give myself, or rather self-inflict, my own version of a Proust Questionnaire. It's possible some answers may be found there. Or not. Some questions simply have no clear answers.