I am...therefore I write
I started writing 10 years ago on a whim. I’d always wanted to write a book though I’m not sure why. It’s not like I had anything earth-shattering to share with the world. I just wanted to tell a story. And so I did. That first book stoked a fire in me, a deep desire to put pen to paper and let my imagination run wild. For over a decade, I’ve been creating worlds and building characters like my life depends on it. But now I suddenly feel like a million words have been bottled up inside me, screaming to be set free. An itch I can’t scratch. A thirst I can’t quench. So how to fix this problem. Tackle a series? Try my hand and short stories? Take a long overdue break? Without a starting point, I’m not sure where to go next. The only thing I do know is I will write until I can’t. It’s what I do. It’s who I am.