Why I Write

I don’t remember how or why, but I do know that at the age of seven I wrote my first fictional story. I would show off my seven-page masterpiece (with illustrations in pencil and crayon) to my family, and they’d read it with amusement and encourage me to write more. By sixth grade I wrote a few detective stories, and my aunt actually saved them but refuses to give them back to me 19 years later. She’s convinced she can sell them on eBay one day.

My sixth grade teacher, Mrs. Bastendorf, would take the last 30 minutes or so of the school day to actually read my short stories to my classmates–my first audience! Ever since then I’ve loved reading, acquiring new ideas and perspectives, and in turn creating my own characters and worlds.

This passion has never waned and I certainly don’t want it to! I love stories. I love reading them, seeing them come to life in art and film, and I especially enjoy the fantasy genre.

With that said, I can’t deny how much work actually goes into it (when one is serious about it) and you have to constantly write, read, and learn the craft. I feel like writing is both a skill and an art form, if that makes any sense. I’m not perfect, I’m still learning–and that’s OKAY.

As long as I can spin out stories and have that same passion and satisfaction I had as a kid, then I’ll do fine. That is why I write.

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