Funny, creativity and illness... I was convinced I was going to be a writer. Growing up, I was convinced I had the talent. I had the ideas, the raw writing ability, the sheer enjoyment of the writing process. And then... Things started going wrong. It never... quite... happened. I was tired all the time. I was finding it hard to concentrate. My ability to 'see' what was happening in my stories, to 'feel' how the plot was going to develop, simply faded away. Years later I was diagnosed with lupus. The fatigue, the cognitive issues, the pain in my hands, the pain everywhere; lupus. Without understanding it at the time, it cost me a job, a marriage, and my ability to be coherently creative. I still play around with writing. I still have ideas that if only I could ever find my way through the creative forest to the other side where I could write, "The End", they would be, I think, enjoyable stories. But, for the most part, I just admire the people who make it work regardless of the adversity.