My story

The assignment I had given my writing class for tonight was to create a collage. I asked that they spend 20 minutes going through magazines and collecting images or words that appealed to them, then another 20 affixing those images to cardboard or construction paper. The exercise is straight from The Artist's Way and it always goes over well with students. It's a wonderful way to get in touch with what matters to you and it helps to get the creative juices flowing.

Rather than create a new one this time around, I took my teacher's prerogative and brought in the collage I had created for my class last spring. When we started looking at it, I noticed a tiny block near the top with the following words: My story belongs to everyone, but only I can tell it. Part of me says I was taking the easy way out by not making a new collage. But then the other part kicks in, the one that says I was supposed to reconnect with those words right now, this day, this week.

The success of my book hinges on me being forthcoming about my own triumphs and hardships, attributes and foibles. It means telling my story completely and frankly as only I can tell it.

Powerful words. Empowering words. My story. My way.