Sometimes I wonder…

If I ever actually suck it up and put voice to words and words to ‘paper’ (does anyone write on paper any more?) would anyone know?  Would anyone care?  Would it even matter?

I’m sitting here, in the darkness on the eve of NaNoWriMo (again) contemplating. NaPoWriMo… yeah… that I can do.  That I can do because the words… Oh, the words… the words they come in the quiet of the morning, in the dark of the night, as I walk, as I drive, as I dream.  But a novel?

My mom tells me that I need to write this because it needs to be written.  It needs a voice.  It needs to spread its wings and fly.  Should I?  Dare I?  maybe in the end it’s really all I have.