1. Since early childhood I've had aspirations of becoming a writer. Throughout my youth, I fantasized about the day I was going to live abroad in Europe, moving from torrid affair to disastrous relationship with gleeful morbidity. Writing novels and poetry punctuated with coffee, wine and cigarettes from romantic sidewalk cafes. Oh, it was going to be so depressingly grand!
At the time, I assumed my thirties were going to be spent in the final throws of passion as I would at last find my sweet, gentle and understanding partner and cast off my wild ways for domestic bliss and a few impressive literary prizes; perhaps a teaching position at a Liberal Arts college.
I’m in my thirties now and my life wandered a different path. My sweet, gentle and understanding partner showed up way earlier than expected, so I married young. My husband and I spent our twenties dabbling in school, travel, work and we both pretty much compromised the crap out of our dreams for reasons that appeared valid at the time but now seem like lame excuses. I never became the writer I had fantasized about, but there's no reason I can't make some slight edits and begin now. So here I am, happily married with 3 small children, setting out into the world as a would-be writer; using this blog as an opportunity to refine my skills. My first steps are just a lot less tragically glamorous than I had imagined at 13. Not as torrid, but why not as exciting?
2. I need something in my life that doesn’t involve driving, cleaning or making warped leaps of parental logic.
3. I think the first 2 reasons are reason enough...
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