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."