My blog has generated a gratifying following among friends, several of whom have urged me to write a book. The topic was discussed last night at great length. The idea of writing a book brings a smile and I appreciate the fact that anyone thinks I’m capable.
I can barely string two thoughts together and have limited writing skills. Plus, I have zero experience.
As the days progress, my mind grows more cloudy- sometimes it works, sometimes not. I believe medication is responsible rather than the underlying disease.
Blogging is the perfect option for my continuing efforts to challenge my mind while sharing my thoughts and feelings. There is no publisher, no editor and complete control- the word count is immaterial, and I can hop from topic to topic.
Poor grammar, misuse of words and general screw-ups are gonna happen.
Plain and simple, I don’t have a book in me, but I will keep writing as long as I am able.
I know I am one unforeseen event or accident away from being unable to continue to control the way I live. I have relinquished quite a bit already and unfortunately, I’m being forced out of an occupation I love by insurance companies. It has everything to do with receiving benefits and nothing to do with encouraging a healthy approach to an incurable illness.
I’ve worked since I was 13 years old, so 47 years- I like to make contributions thru my work. Now, I feel like I’m “selling out”- compromising my values for a dollar. Maybe I am.
I share this as warning for the impending word vomit- I cannot sit around and my passion for fishing isn’t an option with my balance issues.
I have big travel plans, some new photographic equipment and intentions of dragging you along with me.