Words matter. The right ones can propel us to pursue our dreams; the wrong ones can stop us in our tracks. I know this first hand because for decades I had a secret fantasy that I found hard to act on because I stumbled over a single word: writer.
For years I told myself that’s what I wanted to be—a writer. Inspired by the thrillers I read after long days working as a cardiologist, healthcare administrator, husband, and father, I’d imagine my own books as I put my head to the pillow. But I never sat in the chair and stared at the blank screen because the idea of being a writer seemed foreign and daunting. What did I know about that? I’d never studied literature or attended an MFA program.
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