My life as a writer? Time will tell. I decided I wanted to be a writer when I was ten years old, after reading Little Women. Over the years I'd start projects and never stick to them long enough to create anything. When I was young I'd create worlds of fictional people who I would live through vicariously because my own life was so empty. Probably the worst thing that happened to my creativity was to actually find someone to love and no longer need to live through my invented people. The need to write usually was connected to trying to fill a void in my life.
Well, now I'm 53 (!!!) years old and I'm trying to fill a void. I still think my purpose in life is to write. But to write what? I'm not sure where my talent lies but it seems that if I just start writing SOMETHING, maybe a path will make itself clear. It's been a long time since I've flexed my literary muscles and so I'll just try some exercises. Whether reading any of it is of interest to anybody, I haven't the foggiest. You've been warned.
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