I write.

I have not been published in a traditional way.

So, I am going to do something. It requires vulnerability. Vulnerability. Even the word is big and trips on my tongue.

I am sure there will be many who will scoff and scorn, but I have finally reached that moment in life where I have decided to just do it come what may. Maybe I will grow up and not care. Maybe I will discover that I am not good at it or maybe, just maybe I will rediscover the possibilities I once believed in for myself.  I would like that very much.

I accept the fact that I have thin skin. I know I will be hurt. I know I will be criticized. I know there will be days where I will kick myself for posting the latest installment before it has time to “ferment”.

I know many will take pleasure in finding all my spelling errors and grammatically incorrect sentences.  I also know that those mistakes can take the reader right out of the story. I apologize for that. They take me right out too, but I will get better.

And every day when I am brave enough to post a new chapter, sentence or word, I will imagine someone smiling or crying or perhaps remembering and feeling the possibilities of something good and true they once believed in for themselves.

Maybe my throwing care to the wind will breeze past your window and encourage you to expose your under belly come what may.

But that is not why I am doing this. And if you don’t get that, I hope you do someday.

I will do this.

Because, I write.