Several months ago, I stopped writing. I allowed attacks, accusations, and endless bombardment to stall me. To fill my head with worry that my words would be used against me during each encounter.

My words.

My words hurled as proof of my inadequacies. My lack of resilience. My failures.

I’ve decided it’s no longer my job to fear interpretations or retribution. This is my space, my sanctuary and I’m taking it back.

For several weeks now I’ve been assisting other writers as a development editor for an anthology coming out next summer. I’m really enjoying the process. Each story is so different in style, genre, POV, voice, etc. Each writer eager to dig into whatever we come upon to improve their work. It’s a great experience and I’m learning a lot. 🙂