As I approach my eighth decade, I am tired of biting my tongue. For 78 years, I have restrained from expressing my honest opinion to not embarrass my children, grandchildren, husband.
Ok, maybe not grumpy grampa. He can't hear me, anyway. (The cliche "grumpy old man" is a cliche for a reason.)
This blog began as a page on my professional website, www.coachwrite.com. As traffic and contacts declined over the years, I realized that my advanced age detracted from my competitive edge on many levels. I have written professionally for 40 years: articles, web content essays, ebooks, live-action, and animation scripts for television and film. The amount of writing I have done cannot conceal how old I am. The irony is the totality of my experience supports my professionalism while announcing I am no longer young, leading-edge, or up-to-date on what's hot and what's not.
Too bad, how sad. My inner child objects to being dismissed from the competitive marketplace of freelance writers. My adult outer older person relishes the freedom my blog allows me to express myself without regard to the consequences, personal or professional.