The Rest is Still Unwritten

I feel so awful about not blogging more often, but as you know I’ve run off with a new lover called BookTok, and I find the whole whacky world of content creation (lol) and influencers and scrolling to be deeply intriguing. It’s like learning a new language or going to a foreign country. Not knowing the rules, trying to get comfortable, wanting to join but afraid of messing up. I’ve been making little videos where I read from the diaries I kept in my twenties. It’s been something of an excavation and what I see is that this little monster has been at it for a long time. Writing almost every day in those notebooks, blogging every day for years, and now my first novel. I like to say that it poured out of me, or dropped into my lap, but the reality is that every diary entry and post was part of my story, part of developing my voice, part of enjoying connecting with people and being less afraid. I like to joke that I’ve written a coming of age story at 63, but it’s no joke. It just took a while.

Where do you find your voice?