Why I Became a Writer

 

I love stories. I had a love-hate relationship with books for years, but once I understood just how incredible they are, I was hooked. I went from never touching one to carrying one with me all the time (in the pre-digital days, no less). When it became apparent that though teachers wanted me to expand my mind with reading, they didn't care for me to do so during class, I learned to entertain myself through the more mind-numbing moments of life by escaping into worlds I created. Even as an adult, if you see me in a meeting and I look a little glazed, I’m most likely playing in some fantasyland.

 

When I was a teen, I thought about becoming a writer and even took a stab at writing a book. It was a historical fiction based on the life of an ancestor of mine in the mid-1800s, which I realize now was way too big of a project for a kid, let alone a first attempt at writing anything outside of school. But at the time I didn’t know any better and failed spectacularly at it. I never even got through the first chapter, which took me weeks to craft. (I do have tentative plans at trying it again sometime, but not in the near-future.)

 

Zoom forward several years and I got caught up in the business of trying to figure out my career path. College was focused mostly on classes that pushed my degree forward. I continued reading tons and creating worlds in my mind, but writing was forgotten. Then life happened and I found myself laid up for a month with an injury. After the boredom set in, I decided, "what the hey, why don't I try writing down one of my stories?" I still remember clearly sitting in my bed with a yellow pad -of paper propped up on my knee, pen in hand as I started to map out the beginnings of my first book.

 

After that, it’s become a passion for me. I love sculpting phrases from a few words strung together. I love creating characters and seeing what mischief they could get themselves into. And most of all, I love creating a story that could capture someone's imagination as thoroughly as other authors had captured mine.

 

It’s taken me a few years after that to get things in order enough to publish. Grad school and careers and a myriad of other things kept getting in the way, but I finally reached a point where I had something worthwhile to publish.

 

So, that’s my story. I don’t think it’s particularly exciting or unique. I probably should have jazzed it up by adding an explosion or two in it, but there you go.

Just some random photos of me as a kid. Wasn't I cute?! What happened...?