Long, long ago, I embarked upon the writer’s pilgrimage. I had no idea where I was headed or how to get there. The way has been long and slow. I have stumbled off the path, fumbled through the darkness, scratched myself on thistles and thorns. I have sat down and wept in despair of ever reaching my goal. I have been lost alone in the wilderness, many times.
But recently I chanced upon a guide who gave me a detailed map, and I’ve since met some fellow travellers along the Way. The days of going around in circles are over.
Yet having a map doesn’t make the mountains disappear. It won’t stop the wild rivers from standing in my way. It offers only a little shade from the blazing sun, and none from the blinding rain. The road is still long, but the destination is now known.
This is a diary of the journey into my writing life. Companions make the journey easier to burden, and at times, a joy. I hope you’ll come along and stick it out with me.
There are no shortcuts to any place worth going.