Monday, January 16, 2012


Some good friends and one of my “followers” on the blog suggested I write a book based on the domestic violence shelter where I volunteer. I finally decided to give it a shot a few weeks ago.

...At which point I realized that talking only about my experience working with the children in the shelter was like starting in the middle of my life as a social worker/child therapist. I volunteered at the shelter five years ago because I missed working with children on a daily basis. So this is really my story—a life filled with children. And that’s what I’m starting to write about.

Writing my autobiography, though, brings up people’s lives in general. Anyone can write about their life, but there should be a good reason. My reason is to show how injustice and pain touch many lives, including our own. The part of the book which will contain some of my blog entries or excerpts will show how many lives are completely ruined or ruined for years by domestic violence. And now new generations are experiencing dating and domestic violence to a greater degree than formerly.

So my question is, do you have a good reason to write about your life? To share experiences that you or people you know have had so others can learn from them?

Who knows what might come of that? It couldn’t be a bad thing, IMHO.

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