A Book

For years I've loved writing.

It's part of my job. It's one of the few things I tend to do well.

I've always wanted to tell my story to a larger audience.

Almost 19 years ago, I started a manuscript. It had 8 chapters. I lost it. Then, during Lovey's move...the manuscript was found again all neatly typed in a white binder. The paper has yellowed....and it smells kind of musty....but I brought it to work with me.

I photocopied it....so that it wouldn't smell musty. I put it into a bright, new, BIG binder. No, I'm not ambitious, but I have printed out all 133 posts from this blog, along with a lot of writings I have completed during this time of adjustment, pain, and grief.

I think I'm ready to begin pulling it together -- seriously.

I think it will help others.

AND...who knows? Maybe it will do well.

I really don't care how well it does. If it just helps one lonely gay guy out there....then it will be worth it.

My gayness has led me to a number of people -- people who are so much like me -- hurting and alone.

Frightened.

Unsure of the next steps.

Keep me in your thoughts and prayers as I begin this work.