It’s another of those strange ironies that the man with the incredibly long name was the master of one of literature’s most succinct writing forms.     Francois, duc de La Rochefoucauld (1613-1680) is the author of MAXIMS, a collection of short, perfectly balanced and often jarringly insightful aphorisms on how to live honorably and decently. La Rochefoucauld doesn’t skewer and he doesn’t shame with his writing. Instead, each jewel of a phrase is a foothold, an opportunity for the readers to think about themselves clearly and honestly. I adore the MAXIMS, each and every one.

If there is a true Renaissance of personal expression we’re all lucky enough to find ourselves right in the middle of it. But for writing to matter, for ourselves or, if we’re lucky, for others,, there has to be a purpose. For me, my goal is the same as the sublime LaRochefoucauld: I just want to live a good and decent life. I want to know why I’m making the choices I’m making. I want to be smart enough, I want to be aware enough, to appreciate the things and the people around me. I want to accept that I make mistakes. More than that, I want to be able to accept that a misstep is sometimes the best—perhaps the only—way of getting on the right path and moving forward.

In short, I want to live bravely, appreciating every small victory. Thanks for reading along.

Sincerely yours, Cindy Frank