Brigitta M. 

I've spent the last few years wondering what I wanted to be when I grow up. A little late in life considering that I'm 37, but hey, it can happen to anyone. Stranger still is the discovery that I've been doing it all along.

And no, I'm not talking about being the mother of my precious children that I wouldn't give up for the world. I enjoy that, sure, but I'm talking about something that is mine for keeps even after the kids realize that I'm not as perfect as I've been trying to persuade them that I am. Fortunately for me, they still have a few more years before adolescence kicks in and they come to the harsh reality that Mom is only human.

What I'm talking about is I want to be a writer. I am a writer. Have been a writer, always. Paid? No. Recognized? Perhaps, but only to the extent that folks have managed to stumble across the handful of articles that I have written and edited for wikiHow. Am I any good at it? I sure hope so because I plan on doing this whether or not my stuff sucks, and I'm sure a lot of folks will be a bit happier if what I produce is at least readable.

But what it comes down to, for me at least, is the recognition that I may not be big, and I may not have the fan following of a Stephen King or even the ever-funny stiletto'd Miss Snark, but I am part of a much larger community and that is one I will support in whatever way I can.

Quote: "The pen is mightier than the sword, and considerably easier to write with." -- Marty Feldman

My blog: Sometimes I Scare Myself

Cleaning snow off the car