We all have it, that’s virus mania

Being outside in public today feels different. People are obviously (once again) more aware of other people being near them, and the energy they are giving off is fearful, protective and weary all at once. We are used to it so it’s like, here we are again. So when we can’t go into the vet… Continue reading We all have it, that’s virus mania

I can’t be brave any longer, I miss you all

I just sat down at my desk and looked out my window where I see the downtown wrapped around the mountain, and cars driving to and from the city. So many people going and coming, and I feel so disconnected from them all. The world is just outside my reach, and if I stretch out… Continue reading I can’t be brave any longer, I miss you all

Why I become emotionally attached to fictional characters

I become emotionally attached to characters in the books I read and the TV series I watch. Not all books or series, they don’t all elicit deep feelings for me, but the characters who do are very real for me. And even to me that sounds strange. For example, when my life gets too stressful… Continue reading Why I become emotionally attached to fictional characters

Facing our minds through menopause

I’m reading The Change by Germaine Greer, which is her book about women, aging and menopause. I have found that menopause and aging in general about women isn’t talked about much, even among women, and Greer talks a lot about that. Women talk about their periods and their experiences of being pregnant and with childbirth,… Continue reading Facing our minds through menopause

Am I really a writer? I’ll have to ask my journal

Writing to find myself I’m not sure why it took me so long to admit to myself I’m a writer. The irony is I’ve been writing a journal since I was a girl. So you think it would’ve been a natural revelation. I still keep a journal every day. It’s the way I wake up… Continue reading Am I really a writer? I’ll have to ask my journal

Accepting I’m a writer, finally: It only took about 20 years…

Have you ever felt as if writing weren’t a real job? That saying you’re a writer is kind of fanciful, and even selfish? I absolutely have! It’s really ironic because I started reading when I was four and devoured as many books as I could from that time on. I mean I LOVE to read.… Continue reading Accepting I’m a writer, finally: It only took about 20 years…