When I was sorting through scraps and notes my first time in Colorado 10 years ago, I told myself I was working on a "project." Although I always expected that I would write a book someday, it took me a long time to say "I am a writer" because what follows is: "What are you writing?" and at that time, I wasn't sure exactly WHAT I was writing. It took another long time for me to say I was writing a book about abuse and its ramifications. Abuse is shrouded in silence and shame, and for me to admit that I was writing about it meant that I had experienced it. When someone would ask what I was writing, and I answered, I sometimes asked my husband what I sounded like. Did I sound stupid? I was that insecure about myself and my work. He would always say I sounded articulate or intelligent. He understood how difficult it was to write a book about abuse, and to speak out. He was obviously very supportive. So, the short answer is that when I was organizing I did not know for sure it would evolve into a book. When I moved to Kansas, and had a room estab lished as a "writer's retreat" I knew I was literally writing a book. I also became more comfortable saying that I was writing about abuse.