I am/was a prolific writer in college, and had some successes, but the job I have of editing scholarly writing seems to have had an affect on my desire to write.  So did my marriage, which just ended.   Now that that stressful relationship is over, and I can’t blame lack of peace and quiet any longer, I am curious to see if I start writing again?

I wonder if I am in enough pain to write? Do I have enough going on in my mind and heart to write? Am I interested in the life around me enough to write?  At least I am full of questions again, which is a good sign for any writer.

My mother was a writer, and I wanted to write stories for her to impress her. But I didn’t have any stories in me that needed, or that could be told. So I would pester her, instead, “Tell me what to write, tell me what to write, what story do you want?” And she would tell me that I had to find my own stories.  This has always been a dilema for me. Perhaps that’s why I am so good at my job.  I have specific things I have to write about, following specific requirements, and there’s always a deadline breathing down my neck, and the proposal is worth hundreds of thousands, if not millions of dollars, and will help school kids in neglected areas, etc.  That’s pretty sexy, and the deadline makes it moreso.  But most of all, it’s that I know what to write because my audience tells me almost exactlly what story they want from me. I hadn’t thought of that until just now.  Maybe it is substituting for the “real writing’ or creative writing I used to generate.  Maybe that’s where the urge went.


I said “Hello World” in my first post, three years ago.

I didn’t get an answer, and I suppose Hello, does not actually require an answer – but it would have been polite, nonetheless. Anyway, this this time, I am asking a question, so unless you want me to feel totally abandoned, World, then answer this: “World? What do you want me to write? What story do you want from me?”

Give me an assignment, please.


add another page.


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