The last few days I've been thinking a lot about this old blog. Writing everyday has made me aware of a few things: one, that I miss it, and two, that I have so little time now to actually write in it. Which would account for the lame-o posts the last week or so, not counting the lovely Erika's interview yesterday. I got my questions from my interviewer, the equally lovely, unequivocally insightful and super dedicated Deb over at Jane Poet. Wow! she dug deep and braved the entirety of my archives. That is some serious dedication to her task. She sought to know the subject and know it well. Her questions were like a walk down memory lane. She had me rereading posts I'd long forgotten. She had me laughing at myself all over again.
And, she had me thinking about why I do this thing and more importantly, why I haven't given it up. I guess - and this is hard for me to admit - that I do actually like writing. I just have trouble believing I should be writing. I don't count myself smart enough, witty enough, or nearly talented enough to be doing this. And yet I do love the words. In the end it's very much about the words.
So I guess what I'm saying is that I am recommitting to writing here. And not just whiney posts about how I never write anything. I miss this place.
And I miss the process of finding my voice.
Hey, guess what? See you tomorrow.
