Once upon a time there was a little girl who had a dream. Yes, the little girl was me. But no, the dream was not to be a writer. The dream that never varied from the time I was 8 or 9 was to run an orphanage and have 12 kids. I can't say why it was such an unerring, unchanging thing. But it was. And in a way, my dream came true. I married, had 4 homemade children, adopted 10 and lived (at times endured) my dream.
Our adopted children came with lots of baggage that unfortunately did not go away with love, discipline or any other tool we had at our disposal. During one of those time when the dream seemed more like a nightmare, when several of the kids were teens and acting out in weird and awful ways, I got invited to a writer's meeting. I sat with other people. I can't say if they were like-minded or not. I doubt it.