I have no story.

I admitted to some friends the other day that something I’ve always said I’d like to do is write a book. A novel, to be exact.

But I also want to open a bakery/coffeehouse/book store, and I’m only partially kidding about that. Not that it would be financially sound venture, or anything of the sort.

But the book dream is kind of attainable. I just said write a book, not get one published. Once upon a time, I actually even started a story. The problem was, I had no idea where it was going or what was going to happen. Then, my old laptop died and I’ve never been able to boot it up to retrieve the manuscript.

But after voicing that dream and saying the words out loud, the thought has kept coming back to me. So I might give it a try. I might not.

But at least I’ve given voice to the dream.


One thought on “I have no story.”

  1. I think it’s a desire to passionately love what we do every day that causes those dreams. I expect that some of them come to fruition in time but I wonder if there won’t always be another dream out there in its place. Some days find me passionate about my work and the job I have. At other times life, work, and teenagers frustrate me to no end. At that point the daydream takes over.

    “You could own a restaurant/bike shop along a major trail; cook my favorite foods and tinker on bicycles (washing my hands in between) and just enjoy being happy and content every day”–the voice in my head says.

    Of course making a go of such things is more complicated.

    But, if I ever convince my brain that I could do it…. goodbye classroom.

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