Growing up I never thought of myself as a writer. In fact, I hated anything to do with writing. English was certainly that school subject I could have done without. English never was logical enough for me. Why make a rule only to break it dozens of times? As you can imagine, math was much more to my liking. Math kept its rules.
Funny enough, I seem to come from a family of writers. While none of them have been published (that I know), it is very natural for them to write. My sister was one for poems, my brothers seem to have a gift for making things come alive in short stories, my dad was always writing story outlines, and my mom wrote children’s stories. So, it looks like I could be a writer after all. I guess I will be the blogger for now, at least until my book is done. Then I hope to add the term “published author” to my accomplishments. Never thought any of this would happen.
I look forward to sharing my stories and my life. Apparently, at least according to my friends, my life and experiences are not the norm. I hope one day my children will enjoy reading my adventures. So here I find myself in this foreign world of writing. I am sure this will be an interesting journey. Onward I go, learning as I go. This could make for a bumpy ride. Glad you could join me. Make sure your tray tables are in their upright and locked positions.