One of my new friends I met at my writers conference encouraged me to blog a little more often. Which I should. I have lots to say.
One of her recent blog posts shared how one day she checked her documents file and there was nothing there. Nothing. Fortunately, she was able to recover most of the documents (I think she was missing only her photos). But she commented on how words matter.
Words do matter.
Sally Warner, the author I got to work with, shared a story--and I can't remember the point. But what I took from it was that many writers from other nations keep the phone number of a certain man who lives here in the United States with them at all times. They contact him when they've been imprisioned . . . for their words.
That story made me think as I begin my writing career how very fortunate I am to live in a society where my novels don't have to be handwritten and passed around on the sly. Where my writing is something I can enjoy doing, and not fear the results of doing it. Where I can freely express my mind.
Words matter.
And I find it a privilege meeting and associating with people who feel the same way.
