Memorandum

It’s never too late, in life or in fiction, to revise.
Nancy Thayer, author

Author

Why not? I’ve wanted to write fiction my entire life. There have always been snippets of make-believe in my head, yet I never did much about them. There was one exception: I wrote two short stories way back in 1980 and naively packed them off to magazines. They weren’t very impressed—my packages came back by the end of that week. Thus rebuked, I moved along with life. Writing wasn’t for me, it seemed, not then. I do it today just for fun, and I refuse to harbor any illusions of financial success or celebrity. Creative writing and self-publishing are great entertainment and so much fun, and that’s enough for me.

The appellation of author, when I refer to myself, is troubling. There are so many very talented folks who skillfully weave words in a fashion that readers clamor to consume, and they’ve been doing so all their lives. My discomfort is exacerbated by writing successes within my family. I realize a talent may not be inherited, but I am convinced the desire to express using the written word is. I recognize I have written a book; therefore, I’m an author. I’m a writer because I write—it doesn’t matter my purpose. However, no one will ever confuse me with a wordsmith or highly talented creative mind, nor will it be great literature that I write. My simple hope is to tell a few stories that some folks enjoy.

It is a good place, this personal creative corner of the cosmos.