Sydney

Everyone says I ought to write a book.

I am so not into plot -- or is it plotting – shit.  I cannot tell the truth and also make it fit into some four-act structure, or any other mold.

I hate molds.  Makes me think of Jello molds.  Or worse -- just mold, as in moldy -- smelly, old, allergy-causing… all things you wouldn’t want your life story to be.   

I’m not going to promise you a thrilling rollercoaster ride or an inspiring life-changer or an unforgettable story or an indefatiguable hero if you read this book.  As you can see, I’m not even promising to use real words… “indefatiguable”, lol.

But here’s what I will promise.  Every day I will disclose one secret.  I’ll write all about it in this book. 

Secrets!  SECRETS!  I’ll tell you exactly what happened, what I’m thinking, what I felt or am feeling.

One secret.  Every day. 

By the end of this book, you’ll know them all.   If you even care, that is.