I am a writer to the core.
Someone who cannot go a day without putting words down in a lisible form. Someone who wakes in the morning anxious to advance their characters’ lives. An ‘artist’ who accepts publishing without payment.
Thank goodness I have a passion that lets me forget that I am getting old, that my children have left and that the eco-system is in ruins. What luck to have a comprehensive husband, happy to cook and blind to accumulating dust in the corners! Has anyone else succumbed to this state of grace (or disgrace!)? Reassure me that I am not the only recluse on the planet, shut away with fictional friends…
Will sur It was a sad day for me… November 5 1605 King… sur Guy Fawkes Night suzydubot sur Fearless or Foolhardy? b.wilde sur Fearless or Foolhardy? Join Animal Rights Z… sur Supporter of Animal Right…