I feel compelled to write.
Writing is a challenge for me but I feel I need something in my life that will keep me connected to the outside world.
These days I spending most of my time raising my baby boy so I want to make sure I don’t lose myself along the way. I want to stay involved, continue to learn, participate in society and have more to talk about than my little one’s bowel habits and playground etiquette.
No, I’m not in denial about being a mother, I just think there is much more to my life than feeding schedules and bedtime stories. In fact I intend for there to be a lot more, so I write.
It is a little scary though. I have always felt that writers are either intelligent enough to know what they are talking about or stupid enough not to realise they don’t.
I do not want to feel like I have all the answers or know some kind of truth that others just can’t see.
I don’t want to get it all wrong, be offensive and hostile and learn nothing of value.
I want to ask questions, think broadly, stay open minded, be ethical and decent.
I want to be willing to change my mind.
So I write.
What do I want to write about?
Things that make me think. Topics that elicit strong emotions. Complicated issues that I want to wrangle with.