This morning I saw it was announced that Heather Armstrong, an early blogger formerly known as Dooce, had died. She wasn't a friend. But we came out of that same milieu of early blogging, where someone telling unadorned stories of their lives could find themselves catapulted into a new and different kind of fame beyond just Internet notoriety.
You write so perceptively on your own situation and link it, movingly, to that of other women of your generation that this piece ought to come with a 'time for reflection required' warning.
Never doubt your exceptional talent.
Signpost from a baby boomer slipping out the back door of middle age as you're approaching the front - the zen art of gently letting go can ease your latter years considerably.
The Unbearable Weight of Life After Fame
Great piece, as usual
You write so perceptively on your own situation and link it, movingly, to that of other women of your generation that this piece ought to come with a 'time for reflection required' warning.
Never doubt your exceptional talent.
Signpost from a baby boomer slipping out the back door of middle age as you're approaching the front - the zen art of gently letting go can ease your latter years considerably.
YMMD.