Many people have asked me, “Why did you decide to take up writing your book again after twenty-seven years?” The answer to that question is paradoxically complex and simple for me, but really boils down to a matter of timing.
Wearing my “mom” hat, I am now in a place where my children are off pursuing their own dreams, affording me the time and space to focus on filling my own cup, so to speak. My oldest son is in the thick of college life and all that entails, while my youngest maintains an active high school schedule rounded out by extra curricular musical performances at local and distant venues. Our family life has not slowed down by any means; it has just taken a different focus.
The other driving force behind the timing is that I recently passed the half-century mark, and well, mortality has started looking down its nose at me; or so it seems. Within the last year, I have asked myself on several occasions, “If I were to leave this world tomorrow, what would I regret?” Every time the question has tumbled around my brain like the geometric die in the Magic 8 Ball, the answer rising to the surface has always been the same. Always. Not finishing the book I started twenty-seven years ago.
From the age of six, I always identified as a writer, and while I have written a number of works throughout my lifetime, in my heart of hearts I didn’t see myself as a real writer until I had a book under my belt. Of course, not all authors write books. There are many writers of poetry, short stories, screenplays, and a multitude of other valuable works; but for me, it was all about writing at least one book.
Now that The Blind Switch has left the starting gate, I look forward to writing many more books. I hope you look forward to reading them just as much.