I am a girl just like you.

And by “girl,” I mean, “a middle-aged woman with the mindset of a girl.”

I used to fancy myself a writer, but then I stopped writing years ago (never stopped fancying myself a writer, though, not really.)

If I’m going to be a writer, I suppose I should write.

Nearly every piece of fiction I’ve written has been closely guarded – private. Unseen and unjudged – say what you wish about me, but my writing? I’m not sure I can stand to have it torn to bits, even when I myself know it’s not very good.

So I’m writing. And I’m putting it here for people to see.

(And I’m not at all comfortable with this, which is why I’m doing it.)

Be gentle.

The first version of this page read thusly:

I used to be a writer.

And then I stopped.

Today, a friend encouraged me to write again. Her writing inspires and awes me, while simultaneously intimidating me, because I’ll just never be that good.

Regardless, “I’d love to read your blog,” she said as part of the conversation. A few hours later, after letting the thought of opening up to writing again settle in, I registered these domains:

iltryb.com (for shortlinks)

That last one is something I’d said to another friend some time ago. The third one is touchy and uncomfortable: Thus, I made it the main domain.

Writers produce their material for a variety of reasons, but very few of us want people to dislike what we write. Most of us, myself included, crave positive feedback, or (at the very least) connection and resonance. We want validation. I want validation. No sense hiding it.

I built my first website in 1994, back in the days before “blog” was word. “Website” was still a new thing, as those pages had previously been called “hyplans.” I poured myself into and all over that site. Some of the content makes me cringe now, but I still like bits and pieces.

The writing which always gathered the most feedback was the stuff where I laid everything out there, openly, honestly, and without trying to cover the warts. Discussing my flaws and failings, I connected with people I still know and love today. Writing about taboo or shameful subjects wasn’t done much back then – we were still discovering the magic of the web and how connected we all are.

I did receive unkind feedback, and some of it was entirely justified. “Erin,” one esteemed and respected man said, “you are showing your ass in public.” And I was.

And I’m going to do it again here.


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