From the Author
Hi everyone. Time for a little shameless self-promotion.
If you’ve been with us since the beginning, you probably know me already. By emails or invoices. By the cheerful “Good morning, please pay your bill.” Maybe even by a couple of passive-aggressive messages I wrote in a state of quiet rage when someone “forgot” something. But you probably don’t really know who I am — except as “the person somewhere backstage.”
So, surprise: I’ve been here since day one. In fact, I was there before day one. Back in 2016, some of you may remember: it was just me and my daughter, scrubbing grills by hand. No uniforms or logo. Just sweat, grease, racks, and the two of us saying, “Alright, let’s do this.” That was My Grill Cleaner in the very beginning — not a company, just two girls who got tired of waiting for life to magically sort itself out.
Before that, there was Chicago. Work. Money. Everything by the book. Until one day I realized I just couldn’t anymore. I physically couldn’t stay in that safe, stable, predictable life. So, I walked out of it — no long conversations, no neat explanations. Just because there was no other way.
Meanwhile, Bob was still busy being a manager at his brother’s dealership — looking important, giving orders, and not yet ready to jump into the unknown with me.
And me? I had already packed up, moved to Arizona, and left my husband in Chicago — with absolutely no idea what I was doing or why. Out of that absolute uncertainty, this life you now see was born.
Out of that chaos came an idea, then a loan, then a business. What you see today is the polished version. What I remember is the mess. And in 2024, I began to write — before fading memory and inherited family patterns had the chance to silence me too.
My memoir doesn’t just break the rules — it ignores them entirely.
No melodrama. No sugarcoating.
What you will find instead are threads — cause and effect, invisible lines that tie one generation to the next. In my family, those lines too often led to silence, to forgetting, to blank eyes and fading memory, repeated again and again through the generations.
I decided I wasn’t going to be the next link in that chain. So, I wrote. While memory was still mine. Before the family patterns could swallow me whole.
This isn’t light reading. If you’re curious about psychology, philosophy, even a touch of spirituality, you’ll find yourself right at home here. If not… that’s fine too. Honestly, Netflix is easier.
This is not a traditional memoir.
It’s a voice that refuses to stay quiet. A voice that tells it as it is:
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about childhood in the Soviet Union, and what came after it collapsed
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about families, silence, and fear
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about men and relationships (yes, Bob is in there too — and no, I really hope he never reads it)
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about strength, choice, and the price we pay for both
If you’ve ever felt like you’re living someone else’s life — this book might be about you. And if you know me, you’ll find yourself here too. Not spelled out, but between the lines, in the way I felt you.
And here’s the kicker: if you want the book, you don’t need Amazon, you don’t need a shopping cart.
Just text Bob. 📱 You all know the number.
Because in addition to being my husband, grill whisperer, and occasional character in the book… he’s now also our part-time book delivery guy.
So yes — send Bob a quick message, and there’s a good chance he’ll show up at your door with a grill brush in one hand and a book in the other.
Before you text Bob (and risk a lecture about grills), feel free to poke around here first:
👉 Home | Lana Stasek
Life Without Filters — My YouTube Channel
If reading isn’t your thing — no problem. I talk there too.
Stories from the book, behind-the-scenes moments, a bit of cooking, sarcasm, and real life — no filters.
Subscribe here 👉 YouTube.com/@LanaStasek
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