When I decided to become a writer at the tender age of sixty-five, and without any training in creative writing, I stood at the beginning of “The Long and Winding Road” merged with “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single steps.” I should have looked in the mirror and asked myself, “What on earth were you thinking?”
Not only had I chosen a “road less travelled,” I chose a path never travelled before, at least by me. Seven years later, with two self-published books under my belt, it’s too late to answer that question. There’s no turning back for this obsessive-compulsive, determined to get it right no matter how long it takes kind of person. BTW, there’s another sticky wicket to deal with, a steep learning curve made steeper by being mildly dyslexic, but why let that stand in my way. What the heck anyway. That’s what editors are for.