What's In A Name?

I vacillated over the subtitle of this blog: should it be “A writer’s journal” or “A writer’s journey”? Both are somewhat accurate.

I was born a writer. I recall being a writer as far back as first or second grade. I wrote a newspaper parody in fourth grade and started my first novel by the age of twelve or thirteen. Somewhere along the way, though, my writer-self became my hostage. I bound it, gagged it, kept it in a dark cellar. I beat it, humiliated it and tortured it, but it refused to die.

Like a weed in concrete, it keeps breaking through. It exists. It insists. It persists.

So I’m relenting. I’m writing every day—well, almost every day—and I’ll be offering a fair sampling of it here. In these pages you’ll find observations, musings, rants, writing exercises, grocery lists and woolgathering. There’s bound to be a little something for everyone.

Enjoy!