What Is The Price Of A Word

I am obsessed with writing. It isn’t something that has come easily for years. Once upon a time, I cranked out quite a few bits of stories, bit haven’t in quite some time. The majority of what I have written for years is notes, page after page of them. Recently, though I have steadily been writing out these ideas, publishing two of them as serials on this blog.

Eventual publication would be nice, but that isn’t why I write. Writing is cathartic to me and I desire to write fiction and poetry that people enjoy. I’m not even a great reader, but need to get these stories out of my head somehow. The real push began in high school and with the encouragement of Mrs Kirk. She was an English teacher. A soft spoken, proper lady, who surprised me one time commenting on how attraction Adrian Paul was (that comment was wildly out of character). She was waiting for my first book to be written. Her faith in me was such that she saw it as a given that it would happen. She even told me as much the last time I saw her a few months before the accident occurred. Just like that, my greatest fan was gone.

I still think about her and feel the loss keenly. She was a wonderful person and believed in me absolutely. I dunno. There’s more I could say, but this is beginning to bring me down. I’ll come back to this later.

As always, thanks for stopping by and take care my friends.

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