I’ve been writing for a long time. I’ve only taken any of this writing stuff seriously for maybe the past ten years. More like the past eight.

I’m truly honored when someone reads my books or essays. Writing is a personal act and, at times, a defiant act. When someone reads my work, and enjoys it, I feel a rush. I genuinely feel unworthy of anyone’s compliments or praise. That’s not just false modesty. I write more crap than good stuff.

I have people who have offered to adapt my work to screen plays. I’ve had people re-write entire chapters and send them back to me to show me how I should have done it. I just take those emails, no point in getting all worked up about it. I’ve worked with some horrible editors who want to re-write my work as their work. That’s one reason I’m so grateful to my editor Mark. He does a remarkable job. He offers necessary suggestions (you should see some of the messes before he fixes them) but he never re-writes, he hones and polishes.

I’ve also had people offer to do audio work for me, and again, I’ve heard some of it, and it was quickly and mercifully forgotten.

I’m Facebook friends with a woman, Lori Gomez. She is a truly talented and prolific writer. I’m honestly confounded how she puts out so much work, and quality, engaging work. I didn’t know, or realize, she is also a voice actor. Lori mentioned a few weeks ago she’d like to record one of my essays. I said sure, have at it, and forgot about it.

Today, I stumbled on this video Lori made of an essay I wrote about my addictions and a dead old friend. I think I posted the essay a few weeks ago here on this blog.

This is her work: I was honored and brought to tears. That anyone would think something I wrote was worth the effort required to produce this piece; I’m humbled.

Thank you, Lori. You make my stuff sound good!

Bill