Okay, so this is the internet, where nothing is secret. I mean, not really. But this blog and my whole "writing career" are not something I advertise. I have a Facebook page that I don't post on very often and I certainly don't invite people to check it out. But, I don't know, maybe I should.
Today at work, we had an office assistants meeting. My boss lady, Heather, is really into team building and she asked us to write down something about ourselves that no one would know and then she read them aloud and we had to guess who wrote it. I don't like things like that because most of the time, I can't think of anything. I'm not interesting. I don't do interesting things. I have four kids, which is just crazy, but everybody already knew that. So I wrote "I write novels."
Yeah. I did it. I admitted it. To people. Outside my circle. They were all pretty surprised and slightly interested and then we moved on to the next clue and forgot about it. But I was still pretty proud of myself. It's not like admitting I have a problem and need help. It's admitting I have a dream and someday I'll achieve it.