I keep on re-making myself through the writing.
I go back over old stories that I only wrote as desperate responses to writing classes that I thought might have some answers.
I am in those stories – they are not so much stories as portraits – this is why they are never, these days, completed.
I say that, but some of them achieve a completion.
Others continue to hang in the air.
I go back and change them – an indication of where I have grown.