Right Here, Right Now: Me

So here it is:

I’ve always wanted to write a book, a novel.  And have it be published.  I’ve always wanted my name on a strip of treated leather that binds 150+ pages that people stroke with their forefinger and display on a shelf.  Since I was little, I’ve wanted to be a writer.  And just right now, sitting on a lumpy hide-a-bed couch in a (our) flat in Tunbridge Wells, it just occurred to me that now is the time.  I have no idea where it’s going, but I know how it begins- and it’s right here, right now.  I am writing a book.  My book.  A book by me.  I’ll share snippets with you along the way.

I’ve been in the UK for a little over two weeks now.  I’m settled and I’m lonely, but not in a sad way.  I’m lonely in a way that makes me brave.  I feel strong, creative, and fresh.  When David and I decided to move, I told him I wasn’t going to compromise my vision, I wasn’t going to work just to be paid, and I wasn’t going to do things I don’t believe in.  Well, here I am, with ample time on my hands, an amazing support system, and ten strong fingers.  I am going to write this book.

I just wanted to tell you that. 


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