I've been working far too little on a memoir I am writing about a certain time in Toronto way back in the mists of time. I didn't want to do anything with it until a whole bunch of time had passed and key people in it would have passed on.
It's been a long project with scattered notes and old notebooks and many chapters written on line and thoughts in coffee shops committed to little notepads. Some chapters I printed and workshopped with a group who were very excited about the premise and the secret life I led. (There's a teaser right there!)
I think I am ready now to pull all the bits and pieces together. And send it off. But I need to pull away from everything else for a while and sit and nurse this whole thing together by the end of February.
Daughter has been super encouraging, though she's not aware of the content. I would love to get away from all distractions to get this finished but that's not in the realm of possibility at the moment. I will try and disconnect where I live and relive and breathe all these memories that have never left me and still linger with a miasma of sadness at the choices that had to be made then.
So adieu for now. I will back on March 1st.
Hopefully, not too battle worn.