On a cloudy and cold day, I dressed warm and went to the beach. Just to sit and think. What gives me the right to think that I am writer? The simple answer is "I DO." I owe it to myself to be the best writer that I can for myself. My experiences have given me license, and my determination the drive.
Each day in my life, which I have lived, is but a page in a novel. Some aspects of my novel are lengthy, spanning decades, while other parts are far shorter. Each day is a page of my life, broken up with several chapters, which are but moments.
Each of these moments an experience of happiness and laughter, sadness and crying, fear and courage, determination and tenacity, surprise and disappointment, planning and ad-libbing, victim and perpetrator, breathing and suffocating, hello and goodbye, acceptance and rejection, constant movement of ups and downs.
As I continue to turn the pages, I have learned about my strengths and weaknesses, as I learn to deal with my vanities and envies. Unbeknownst to me and during the creation of my novel literal fortunes have passed through my open hands. All because of my desire to keep up with someone else, or my neediness for instant gratification, or just plain shortsighted. Every day is page whether I like it or not!
Today, I can look back at anytime of my life and ask myself, "what if," and I am always secure in knowing, that a story will begin.