My path away from marital meltdown began in the smoking pile of rubble that was my final workplace implosion. It was 1 a.m. and after months of 18-hour days launching a new show, I exploded: screaming, throwing things and threatening people. In front of a large audience on the production floor of 30 Rock, I bottomed out with a loud, messy splat.
Learning to live out loud in my second half wasn't originally my goal, but it happened anyway. I pretty much spent a lifetime fluffing the pillows in my cushy comfort zone. But all that changed four years ago when I took a chance as the empty nest began to creep up on me. Fueled by hysteria and impulse I decided to pursue my first love ... writing.