In the midst of the pandemic called COVID-19, or what I not-so-lovingly call The “C” Word, the important stuff is sure is in sharper perspective.  I’ve wanted to be a writer my whole life.  I’ve written and published one story.  It’s the best story I’ve ever published, and it’s awful.  Why did I do it?  To prove I could finish something.

I’ve decided that I don’t want to be a writer.  I am a writer.  I’m an author – a published author.  I’m proud of that fact.  At what point do I start living my dream of being an author?  The point in time when I choose to stop making excuses and actually write.

So here I am…again…dedicating myself to my dream.  I am an author.  There are stories fighting for attention.  They need to be told.  I am the bard strumming the strings of my imagination to tell them.