Dear [Vanna],
I remember the name Randy Johns from when I was in your class. 
But I’ve never met him formally. Didn’t he used to read the assembly announcements from time to time at school when he was a senior? He must have graduated in 1971 or 1972. But that’s really all I know about him.
The writing is going well. My first book has close to 50,000 words in it so far, and I’m shooting for 150,000.
Writing it has been a learning journey of self discovery and growth. I look forward to it each morning because I’m excited about what turning over the next rock will reveal. Many things I’ve pondered for decades have become clearer now that I have all day to think about them.
Yes, I like the no-deadlines part, although I feel a different pressure now. These dreams keep coming each night to goad me. Sometimes, I dream that I’m back in Pittsburgh, starting my whole life over. Other ones find me standing at the edge of a cliff looking ahead into a murky, uncertain future, where the only way to move forward is to jump. Those ones terrify me, taunting me almost every night. Other times, I dream longingly of the life I had in Philadelphia and how much I yearn to move back there.
But fulfilling that desire all hinges on getting published. And getting published hinges on my ability to come to better understand this social anxiety I’m writing about. Insights abound but I’m still scared to talk to pretty lady strangers at the grocery store. I know it has a lot to do with the vision thing and the fact that I wear thick glasses, as many have told me. And I fear that this shyness may be as chronic as the low vision from which it derives, and thus, no more curable. I have little trouble introducing myself to vision-impaired girls. But meeting the fully-sighted ones really give me the willies. I would love to find a blind or partially sighted lady who attracts me. But I don’t run into many these days. I see far more sighted ones. So I’d like to learn how to feel more comfortable around them, then tell my readership about it. This is my life’s mission now.
Tom