I’m writing a beautiful story right now that may never see the light of day, so to speak. That’s okay. It’s fun to write because I enjoy it rather than for the purpose of being published. The journey is much more satisfying because of the reflection of both reality and imagination. The escape, so much more revealing. The story doesn’t fit the typical category that you see displayed across every bookshelf but to me has a little bit of everything including what I enjoy the most and that’s a character who discovers the past through strangers. Quite often I meet family through stories told to me by close or not so close, aunts, uncles and cousins. That’s one of the things I miss most about traveling, especially to Texas. The stories fall from the lips of those southern voices with excitement. It's like riding a roller coaster that starts off slowly and then twists and turns until reaching some kind of euphoria before coasting back toward the sense of calm that started off the ride. That's what a conversation feels like when I sit down with someone who knew about so and so from back in the day. And then they might tell me how much I favor that person like a family trademark, a way about my smile, the shape of my forehead or the way I carry myself. It's nice when I hear the family name mentioned with pride and interesting when there's a cloud of mystery about some dark figure from long ago, making me wonder if I was truly related to that person or not. "Yeah, they was kin to you!" I might hear. I'm writing a story that reflects a lot of that... The mystery, the romance, the good and bad that comes along with the discovery of kinship because sometimes you ain't always proud of what you find out and other times you're blown away by the beautiful discovery so much so that you wonder in which way do you contribute to the lineage. What will be said about you in time; after your time...