You can’t make a living as a story writer. That’s what I’ve been told for as long as I expressed the desire to be one. Now, don’t get me wrong. The people who say that are right in most cases. And, who knows, maybe they’re right in my case as well. But I have to try.

If my blood sings when I read a book, watch a story or admire a painting, it roars when I create. Whether it is while sketching a character that has been pushing up in my mind, or obsessively forming the elegant curves of my handwriting, or tapping away at the keys on my keyboard, it makes me feel alive.

I’m sure you can see now why I have to try. Why it is absolutely imperative that I take a chance…on me. I have been offered this opportunity by, what I fondly think of as, the most accepting and loving life partner in existence. And I am taking it. He has shown me a world where I can.

So, here we go. Wish me luck and keep reading. 😀