What do you think?  Is one ever too old to strive for a new beginning?

When I was ninety-one years old, in 2011, I was cut down by a stroke. I could over-hear the nurses and doctors talking about hospice, but I fooled them all, myself included. I discovered that while I could not hold a pen, I could talk and perfectly well dictate the words that made sense. So I dictated my first novel, "Romantic Tales from Old Mulvedania, Secret Stories of Royalty Never Meant to be Told".

Now it is 2013. I still can't write with a pen, or type for myself, but I am in the middle of writing my second novel, entitled "The Carolinian Chronicles", a novel about aristocrats in modern day France.

Am I having fun? I am having a blast! I love my fictional friends and look forward to each day that I can dictate the story of both imaginary and real events.

Since it's only the beginning, let us join together in a fanciful frolic to delight the heart. Everyone has a story to tell because it's only the beginning!  There is no time like the present to start to tell it.