For several years now, I’ve had numerous people tell me I should write a book. They read or hear stories of my life, and then proclaim I need to write about it.

I usually smile and say thank you, but inside, my only thought is, “I don’t know how to write a book.” So I don’t do anything with their advice.

From the time I can remember I’ve taken most people’s counsel to heart and even felt a sense of “obligation” that I should follow through with their guidance. Which for most of my life has created a sense of pandemonium in my brain.

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