I haven’t wanted to write since my grampa died. Blogging mostly, that’s what I haven’t wanted to write. I’ve wanted to go away and just be alone. Shut away from everything and everyone. I’m afraid that there’s something I’ll say that will be wrong, or infer something that isn’t what I meant. Like somehow my grief will lessen everyone else’s as if he was the most important person to me and he couldn’t possibly be that important to anyone else.
Instead of blogging, I think I’m just going to use those feelings and those thoughts and thrust them in to this book I’m writing. At least then… it gets out. Out of me.
I showed my son my copyright the other day. I told him that it was his after I am gone. 50 years after I’m dead. Hopefully things will sell better then =)
