If you've read the "About Me" section, you know that I'm going through a life change at the moment. Some positive and negative mixed in. I'm lucky enough to not be on the verge of starvation, so I can indulge a bit more than some of my fellow unemployed.
You also know that I am a former English teacher. I taught high school kids, 9th-12th. *pause for gasps* It always seems like I get a horrified look when I announce my profession, a look only slightly less horrified than the look middle school teachers receive.
I've also been berated for going into the teaching career. The old, "Those who can't, teach" type of pep-talks. But I feel like it was the right choice for me. As much of a pain and test of my strength it was, teaching is the only thing I'm prepared to do.
Like many other English teachers and professors, however, I have a secret, hidden desire. I'm not sure the old saying about every English professor having the great American novel hidden in a drawer is all that bad. Most of the teachers I know ferret away secret short stories, plays, or poetry. Most of us are too chicken to do anything about it.
I am blessed to live in the day and age of internet anonymity. I can share my writing with all of you, and not have to search your face for reaction while you read. You can read what I have to say, or not, but I'm still putting it out there.
After years of letting my creative side dwindle, I'm ready to give it another try. So, here goes my one step that hopefully begins an interesting journey.