As a writer I can be rather full of myself sometimes.
*pauses, hopes for gasps of
honest surprise and shouts of denial… receiving none, carries on with a
well-timed sniffle*
Case in point: A little, bitty part of my childless self has been
hoping that my Six Brothers project would serve as my contribution to the
family legacy. Based on the true story of six Scots-Irish brothers on my
father’s side of the family who fought in America’s Revolution, that tiny,
self-important niggle of me has grand plans of cementing those men’s sacrifices
in the hearts of readers around the world…
*clears throat, tumbling back to reality*
Well, I’m sure you get my meaning.
Who knows if this will ever come to fruition. Who knows if a single
soul beside my agent and a few unimpressed editors will ever read their/my
story. But at least the effort has been made. I comfort my uterus-less self
with that.
Today, 100 years ago my grandmother on my mother’s side was born. A
remarkable spitfire of a woman this world misses her warmth and her light every
day.
Her name was Ann and she was magnificent.
*pauses to check the blog
follower numbers one more time*
By my best calculations, this little blog of mine has well over 500
dedicated followers throughout the various mediums. Perhaps, just perhaps, even
if my Six Brothers never find print, this mention of my grandmother on her 100th
birthday in this very post will contribute at least something to the family
legacy.
See? Told you I was rather full of myself.
*chuckles softly*
Merry Christmas Eve, everyone!
Until December 26th…
Chloe
