My name is Mary. Though many of you may not know me now, I was once one of the most active, involved, and prolific contributors to ApricotPie, and many of you who have been here for a long while no doubt remember me.
I joined ApricotPie in 2008. Shortly after joining, I began posting a chapters of a serial historical fiction called The Shadowfields. It was written offhandedly, perhaps even flippantly, purely for the fun of writing it, while my focus and concentration were dedicated to my more serious current project at the time.

From conception I had issues. I had a bad heart.
There was hope for me, yet when I was born I was dead, with a mangled and crippled body.
But I was revived.
I was given life.
I was given a new heart.
I was ridiculed by many of the people around me. Pitied by some. Encouraged by few. I had days of wishing to die in my crippled state, or even to make my state worse out of spite.
But throughout my life each crippled and disabled limb was made right and new. It was a long, slow process, but it was a journey of beauty.

Note: I was planning on writing something like this before James started posting his recent posts. I hope it encourages you in your writing!
--------
Fellow writers,

I sat, fingers twitching on the keyboard keys, occasionally writing a bit, deleting it always, most of the time still.  The bane of all those who love pen and paper, who are drawn to the written word and agonize over each and every sound as it slips from the tongue to the air.
Writer's Block

For so long my life sang quietly, steadfast and sure
Seasons came and went, suns rose and set
Monday became Sunday and memories all blur
Only delight of the mind proceeded untoward

Now it seems my mind is still
Too full of things to learn yet more
And when I look outside myself I find
The world has changed and changed some more

Where are those blessed childhood days
Spent walking over sunny hills?
I loved it then and I love them still
But I no longer know where to find
The quiet path winding though the fields