Ever since I read about Ernest Hemingway's Iceberg Theory about writing, I've been applying its idea to just about everything else, including myself.

If a writer of prose knows enough of what he is writing about he may omit things that he knows and the reader, if the writer is writing truly enough, will have a feeling of those things as strongly as though the writer had stated them. The dignity of movement of an ice-berg is due to only one-eighth of it being above water. A writer who omits things because he does not know them only makes hollow places in his writing.

A friend once described me as mysterious. So I am. I've never been a fan of self-exposure, and as a result I decided to omit myself by slipping under the radar, becoming just a fly on the wall out of safety concerns.

But an iceberg reveals itself over time, showing one-eighth, then one-fourth then more over time. I hope what I write here will do the same.