She wanted to write a book. Not another book on wormhole physics, or anything physics related, but a book of her life. She was pretty sure she could do it, they said everyone had a least one book in them, and she'd read enough bad romance novels (mostly for the sex) to know it couldn't be all that hard.
No one would be able to read it, but then, no one without the right clearance could read her wormhole physics book either and that hadn't stopped her.
Also, even before joining the Stargate programme, a lot of stuff had happened to her. Traumatic life changing stuff that would probably be found on Oprah's book list that Teal'c was working his way through.
Even before joining the Air Force a lot of life changing things had happened. She'd read a lot of books when she'd been a teenager about people who'd lost their mother. Her father would leave them on her bed for her, send them through the post, battered novels from second hand stores, books from libraries, brand new hardbacks from big stores. None of them really helped, but years later she realised that it was a nice touch from her father. It was something. None of the books identified with her. Yes, loosing your mother was probably one of the worst things she'd ever have experience (which she still felt now) but none of them really told her what to do about it, or what to do when you'd lost your mother and were being dragged reluctantly around the country.
They were buddy stories, rely on your best friend stories, and she hadn't had a friend like that since she was six.
Being a military brat was hard enough on it's own and Sam had done both and come through okay (she liked to think so anyway). She thought maybe that could be a book in itself. At least people would be able to read that.
Whether anyone would want to read it was immaterial to this feeling that she wanted to document her personal history.
She realised she had little to leave behind. No one would know what she had been through in service of her country, her planet, and it all seemed like a waste. Her name was stamped on everything the Stargate had produced almost and while that would be her legacy, none of it really reflected her as a person. Just a genius. Sometimes it wasn't enough. She felt she wanted something more than technology to show that she'd achieved something. She wanted more than medals, promotions and commendations to show that she had come through some awful times to get to where she was. Emotionally and physically painful events that had threatened her life and her sanity.
What stopped her was the actual process of sitting down and writing a dozen memories about her mother, schooling, Jonas Hanson, the academy. She couldn't separate the memories very well, everything was always jumbled up in her mind. More so since Jolinar's memories joined in with hers.
That also meant she couldn't quite trust her own memories either. While it was quite obviously her that had run crying from her mother's funeral, it was hard to be sure if the feelings she remembered were solely hers or what Jolinar had felt when the two of them had blended and their two lives had collided.
She wanted to be all her. Just Sam Carter, but it never was and the memories Jolinar had left behind would make a book of their own.
So she shelved the idea, dealing with the itch it had left behind be writing a bad romance novel (without the sex).
Eventually she'd have enough time to sort through the mess in her mind. Perhaps when she retired, if she lived that long, but that gave her more reason to survive every day.