Last week at work I was given the latest issue of Titan’s Torchwood magazine. It sat on my desk, and yesterday evening I shoved it into my BPRD bag on my way out of the office, for something to read on the commute home.
Flipping through the magazine, I read about a book called Dear Me. A group of people, among them Stephen Fry, Yoko Ono, and John Barrowman, write letters to themselves at the age of sixteen.
This sounded rather intriguing, and some Google use at home turned up the book’s website, where others who have written letters to themselves, aged sixteen, can share their insights.
I thought about this last night. Really pondered it.
And I figured out what I would say, in a letter to myself, aged sixteen.
I started writing it out on the subway this morning. I added another page on the trip home.
My plan is to run the letter on my blog on New Year’s Day.