Often people say, “My life is an open book” … and I include myself here. The real truth is that it has been, within reason. I’ll discuss most anything … anything “I” choose to openly share, and discuss. I don’t feel I’m alone here; I truly believe we all carry baggage – those things we choose not to tell anyone.
People often tell me I should write a book. I do enjoy writing, but I’ve never considered a book, especially non-fiction! My retort is, “…because they would want to put it on the fiction shelf.” … I smile, and my life goes on.
As with any book that is based on truth, I feel there’s never a conclusion, until our death. And at our death, it is then only speculation by those left behind, not necessarily truth.
I am awed by people who can take a half-century or more of their lives and hone it down to a few hundred pages. Where do I begin? How much is relevant, or interesting? How do I capture the reader’s interest, to the closure of the book? How do I have closure, when my life goes on?
I’m contemplating a book of letters … letters written to those who had the greatest impact on me, personally, for growth. However, with letters, I feel much detail would be left out, for the reader. It’s often the details of our human behaviors and experiences where our life lessons are gained. Letters would be a way of forgiveness and cleansing for me, but what does it give to the reader, other than for them to know what I learned?
Hmmm … I can see that this can be a daunting task, and big decision … simply deciding how to approach a book – or whether to write one at all. As I hear a whisper … nothing ventured, nothing gained … no harm, no foul … etc. …