Such a rich, deep discussion we're having. Thank you everyone! Love the humor as well.

Dotsie-- Hate to admit it, but I, too, would probably fall into the nosey camp. Maybe it's being a writer, but I'm intensely curious about people. Doubly so about my family. By the way, I expressed my journal concern to my husband last night, and he just laughed, which, in turn, made me laugh. He said, "Are you kidding? Who's going to read that stuff? It's like a ton of gobbledygook. Sure, I might thumb through it, but that's all."

Still... I don't think I want to take any chances.

Sherri-- I can relate to your story. Like you, I poured my heart and soul into composing personal letters and school essays. But even though I loved writing, I never considered myself a writer. It took me 47+ years to take my joy in the craft seriously.

Evie-- You are so welcome! Here's another insight I had this morning from my scare the other night: So long as there's breath in our bodies, there's hope. As I think I expressed in my original posting about this incident, I couldn't figure out what I could do to start breathing again, to turn the situation around. I had almost no hope. And then, at the very last second, that wisp of air went into my lungs. (I'm so dramatic, aren't I? )

I used the above line about hope in one of my versions of the introduction to Defying Gravity. (If you don't have the book and want to compare, I think you can read the final version via the "Open This Book" feature on my Amazon.com page.) But it sounded a little trite, so I eventually dismissed it.

Here's how the book originally began:

"Since I began writing about women who discovered their gifts midlife and refused to let go of their dreams, I’ve heard one question again and again: “Do you mean there’s still hope for me?” My answer is always an emphatic yes. So long as there’s breath in our bodies, there’s hope."

Not trite at all!

Now back to Evie--

Love that you had the courage to announce your goals and be held accountable. Anyone else want to do the same?