On Writing in General and Writer’s Groups in Particular

Writing is something I’ve always felt drawn to. I’d read a book and think, yeah, I could write a book…someday. I actually thought I could write a better book than a lot of those I read. After all, writers do need a bit of ego, or in many cases they possess a lot of ego. With a huge heaping helping of humility, I believe I fall somewhere in the middle. Perhaps some of my friends would disagree. But with all that aside, the someday arrived. I sat down and wrote a book. I let it ferment in a drawer for ten years until I pulled it out, dusted it off, and not having a clue as to what to expect, walked through the doors of a conference room at my local library, and the heads of three men snapped around, with mouths agape they stared at me. “Who is this…