Being the author of five titles in less than three years, I have officially attained the well-earned title of recluse. It wasn't easy to make the cut. Don't laugh! Through years of interacting with other teachers as the "specials" teacher of much lower status and importance (ahem), I managed to smile and nod. I even listened to their endless conversations at lunch but my mind would wander. My imagination drumming its fingers...waiting...sighing in boredom.
Once I submitted myself to the discipline of daily writing, my overactive imagination (clearly that term is intended as a disparaging label but one I wear proudly--I may even get a t-shirt) busted out in song! Darting from place to place - the eleventh century? Jacobean England? How about the Protestant reformation? Oh yes! The blood. The massacres. And the colonies on the verge of creating a new nation? Ah! Lovers ripped apart - hope - death - taxes (Benjamin Franklin?) What characters I could create!
So to blog about my best friend? Who has time for social interaction? Even my favorite pastime...Sitting in a pub, sipping a Guinness, and listening to some great musicians play Irish tunes. To say I was never meant to be a social creature seems true enough.
