Without pretending or aspiring to being a “writer”, I feel compelled to write of certain experiences I have had or witnessed. Based on the interest of friends and family in these stories, I have decided they are worth sharing and preserving.
Further motivation comes from being unemployed, genuinely unemployed to the extent of feeling unemployable–a new experience, as well as being alone for the first time; consequently, I find myself with an enormous void of time, and fear the consequences of not filling it—even to the extent that too much unused time could be dangerous to my psyche.
To be a best seller writer would be anathema to me. I would hate to think that anything I wrote would have been promoted in such a way somebody would have been commercially enticed and convinced to buy my writing for which they have no affinity. It is enough, in fact very satisfying to me to find a few people, whether friends, family or enemies, who find my writing interesting enough to read. Hence, the blog