What is your dream job?
If money didn’t exist, I’d love to be a curator of life stories.
I’d want to sit with an elderly person who can no longer write their story for themselves, and help them shape it. Not by putting words in their mouth, but by listening closely—reflecting back not only what they say, but the themes and meanings that sit just beneath their words.
I’d also love to run seminars for people who feel a pull to write their own story, or whose families are quietly hoping they will. I’d give them simple tools and prompts that help the words come. Not perfect words—just their words. In their own voice. For their own kin.
And I’d love to host writers’ groups for people working on longer projects: a shared space to turn up, chip away, and keep going. Then lunch together, where anyone who wants to can read something they wrote that day (or since last time), and the rest of us celebrate that they’re still at it—and that something has been made.
The Afterword 
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