More thoughts…

began with being an avid reader, which is odd because my grades in elementary reading were never great. They always seemed to push reading quickly and catching every detail. I was the one who would move slowly through each piece, saying each word in my head, almost giddy over how the words flowed and sounded, one after the other. My comprehension was fine if I could do this. But they liked to push getting things done in a small amount of time. That said, when I read on my own time, I grew to love it. I wrote little stories here and there. I even chose to write sequels to some of the required reading in school as project or extra credit work. I majored in English in college, and even got my degree in Fiction Writing, despite people trying to talk me into learning more "marketable" skills, my English advisors included.

I'm into my 50s now, and I'm writing again. This time feels different. I love what I'm writing about. I work on it daily. I'm in love with the subject matter and my characters. I hear them having conversations in my head. I'm excited to get it in print, in many formats. I want it to reach people. I don't expect it to be life changing for my readers, but I do want to touch them. I could not ask for more.