Ten years ago, while driving down the road with a friend of mine, we were talking about what we wanted to do with our lives. I remember telling her I wanted to make a difference, to be somebody, to write a book. The problem for me is I don’t feel like I have anything to say that anyone would really care to hear, I have lots of ideas, tons of characters, but no plot, and no real story.
My biography is a good one but not truly amazing, Borders Books is full of lots of authors that have remarkable stories that are of historical significance. I keep wondering where my place in history is going to begin, when am I going to feel, today is that day, yes, I have done what I set out to do. I haven’t written my book yet, in fact in the last ten years I haven’t even gotten three pages written of a story.
But today I am going to decide that with all the words ever written on a page of a book, until I begin to write my own words my world will not become full of words and I cannot become that writer I dream of. I have a goal and to make my place in history truly my story I have to tell it in a way that makes a difference to me.