Janis Ian bakes. Yes, that Janis Ian. A spectacular Christmas cake she made — fourteen layers with a Christmas tree inside and beautiful buttercream swirled icing — was posted to one of the Facebook groups I’m in. I clicked the profile picture next to the post to make sure it was really the award-winning singer-songwriter, and it was. I started searching to see what she’s up to now, and came across ​“Janis Ian – 4 Song Set (Recorded Live for World Café)” in 2022. Along with her hits, she sings new songs about being seventy-two years old, the lines, bruises, scars on her skin and how she wouldn’t trade a single one of them. The lyrics are beautiful, ​“Another line. Another year. I’m still standing here.” She also talks about how after all her success, at a certain age, people decided she was too old to be relevant anymore. 

I have always loved Janis Ian. I related to every word that came out of her mouth. She sang my feelings and experiences to the world, reduced me to tears because she knew me and so many girls and women — our dreams, fears, hopes — and she still does. 

I have published, performed and posted a great deal of writing in my seventy-four years. I have never published the novel I have dreamed of writing since I was young. I’ve finished drafting a few, got close to deals that didn’t happen, and I’ve recently finished a first draft and am into revisions on my latest effort. But why? Will the world embrace — or at least the publishing industry — a seventy-four-year-old overnight sensation? 

Janis Ian sings ​“Resist.” I’m trying. I’m trying to believe it’s important for me to write my fiction and someone, somewhere will read it.