This is it. The first post. I’m not a fan of talking about myself, but I think it could be therapeutic.
I’m a writer. At least trying my damnedest to be one.
The seed was planted at about the age of 11, but it didn’t sprout until my 30s. In part thanks to some very patient tending by my wife. Now I have a mountain to move…or climb. (What’s with the mixed metaphors?) First draft of first novel completed and I finally understand just how difficult this will be…but also how rewarding.
I’ll say more later.