I was fortunate . . . for a while, but now, I guess you could say I’m of an age where I’ve begun to go to more funerals. Beyond losing one much-loved cousin—barely out of her twenties—to breast cancer, I hadn’t really lost anyone close to me. But soon, death, a snowball, became an avalanche.
I have never found myself in a position where I couldn’t write something down. Ideas float away so quickly, I’ve taken great pains and spent a great deal of money to ensure I am able to pin them down somehow. I have a lovely little HP laptop at home and a Chromebook I carry everywhere.
I find myself longing, daydreaming for extra minutes just to have more time to write . . .