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At age 64, I am a mother, grandmother, and sporadic writer. My writing ventures cover the genre gamut. As far back as I can remember, I've been writing, not because I want to, but because I am forced to. I do not choose to write. My personality is such that I thrive when I'm around people, not holed up alone in a room, banging out words on a computer.

I write because I have to. Characters bombard me with their need to be heard. A story line falls into place like a missile centering on its target. Articles, novels, stories, poems, and plays have been written over the years, and they rest in file drawers. Most often they
remain untouched, rarely read or sent for publication. They are never rewritten because once the writing is over, the urge is satisfied, the nagging little inner voice is stilled, and I am at peace, for awhile.

I've never written because of a need to be published. Even my novel, 'The House of Annon", was not written with the destination to be published. That would be icing on the cake. It was a story that came to me after reading a little book I found at a yard sale titled "The Inner Secret or That Secret Something Within" (I intend to re-publish it someday, perhaps in this series). Words kept running through my mind until I sat down and wrote them.
Suddenly the story developed. I never knew from one line to the next where the story was going. It created itself. Now I know why Harriet Beecher Stowe claimed that God wrote, "Uncle Tom's Cabin".

Speaking of Harriet Beecher Stowe, that's another one of those things with words dancing around in my mind, only this is not an article or story, but a play. I can see the opening scene, I know what she's going to say. Now, I need to write it all down, find a producer, and get it going.

One of my major problems is that I'm not confident enough about my writing to venture into the arena of publication and accept the slings and arrows of rejection. It's the same with singing. I've been blessed with a very good voice, and people have told me I should perform, however my fear of not being good enough has kept me from putting
myself in front of an audience that might not like how I sing. I have a abhorence to rejection.

Writing and singing just for myself, are satisfying. It is more acceptable to me to be content with myself as I am, than to put myself out there for critiscism. Is that the cowards way out? Of course. Is it realistic? Perhaps I know my talents and abilities better than anyone who has ever encouraged me to pursue a career as a writer or singer. Maybe not. Maybe I'm illusionizing, (I like that word) to justify my inaction.

If I had worked on becoming a better writer or singer, and became famous, how different a person would I be than I am now in the twilight of my life? My memories would be different. My children would not be the same,nor my grandchildren. Would I be the same person I am now? Not at all. My experiences would have been different, my philosophies coming from a different direction. Wonder what I would be like, if only I had pursued another direction.