Start a memoir about what writing means to you.

Before...
Reams of smooth white paper and a pencil with a "just right" lead...not too scratchy, not too thick; writing just legible to me.

Now...
Snippets. What matters right now. Word pictures of events that otherwise would swirl away and disappear down the drainhole of my short existence, but now preserved.

My soul laid bare, but not my whole soul for don't imagine that by reading this you know me , for you only know of me what I choose to share. I am not my blog.

In writing I am neither tall nor short, thin nor fat, intelligent, naive, gullible or guileless, I am just me. Read me if I am worth your time, disgard me if you choose.

I write not for you, but for me.