You don’t have to shout to be heard

If I wrote about me—my thoughts, my fears—who would I be? What would my voice sound like? Would I sound old? Scared? Interesting? Just a little bit crazy?

What would I write? Is long-form the way to go? Could I sustain reader interest, let alone my own?

When I hear the story in my head I hear ‘she’. She tried hard to shrink herself down small, to be inconspicuous, to not be noticed. She didn’t like to be the centre of attention. She knew she had a role to play, or rather, she knew she had to play a role but being upfront, leading the way, wasn’t it—her role was more subtle.  Of that she was sure.

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