I am a Writer
In a world that seems to be rapidly spinning out of control, I hold up my hand to steady it. My small hand. My inconsequential hand.
For me, it is enough that I try.
I write not for a living, but because it is what I do. Who I am. This may be of little importance against the stark and horrific background of a world ravaged by hatred and fear, but to me it is an important act in the balance of the world. A world where creativity and dreams are embraced is a world that still nurtures the possibility of positive change.
I write about entertaining possibilities and challenges that spring not from hate or anger, but from inspiration and imagination and passion.
In my writings, I offer a few words of reflection and opinion and, perhaps, a smile or two to take one’s mind away from the stresses and sorrows of the world—if only for a few moments.
I am not the cure for what ails the world, but I am proud in the fact that I do not contribute to those ailments. I may not cure cancer. I may not save anyone’s life. I may not do anything worth remembering in my lifetime. Despite the relative unimportance of what I do, I am ennobled by the intention. They’re only stories, writings, one could say, but in the spirit of such creativity and passion resides the hope of a better world. From the spirit of such an endeavor come enough hands to steady the world….
