I wrote My Big Fat Head when I decided to accept the fact that I was a food addict... ...well, maybe not total acceptance, but an acknowledgement. Let's call it a nod. I knew there was no question I was a sugar addict, and I knew that if the sugar didn't go, I was going to go (diabetic, crazy, to Weight Watcher's for the fifth time, pick one), and I wanted to mentally stay onboard, so... I didn't think I would ever publish My Big Fat Head, because if I did, I'd be out of the closet and all the world would know my dirty little secret; that when placed in a boxing ring with chocolate chip cookies, I'd get knocked down every time. My one and only problem, or so I thought, was my sweet tooth. Once I gave up the foods I craved most, I realized that the only thing I was doing by consuming them in the first place was depriving myself of living an honest life. How can that possibly make sense? Because when a person is in the throes of any addiction - - food, alcohol, drugs, obsessive behaviors - - the preoccupation with that one thing is so prevalent that everything else takes a back seat. Not intentionally and not all at once, so that you don't even notice until it's too late, your life becomes this narrow hallway that loops back and recycles in on itself, causing an unsettling mental disruption. Think circular treadmill you can't jump off of. It may not be publicly noticed, but it's strongly felt by the addict in question. My Big Fat Head is about more than just about the desire to be thin. It tells the story a life ruled by emotional fear. I thought it was my destiny to be an unhappy, overweight person and so I dismissed my mental, physical, and spiritual health for a bite of a brownie. Okay, fine. A pan of brownies. When I was done writing, I was totally oblivious to the world of editors, agents, and publishers. Overwhelmed with the prospect of writing a book proposal and feeling that what I had to share was time conscious material, I self-published my book at iUniverse.com. And through iUniverse, my book has given folks with a range of addictions - from eating to gambling to drinking to shopping - hope. And hope, unlike a stomach full of brownies, is something worth sharing.