Why

I love English.  I love words.  Looking for the perfect word is not an easy job.

When I’m reading a book at bedtime, I often think back to the first books I read for pleasure in the 4th grade.  My sister Dess gave me Frankenstein and the collected Edgar Allen Poe works. Although they were completely over my head, I was hooked and started devouring all the fiction my little legs could carry on a weekly basis.

I remember back to 11th grade, when I wrote a poem for English and got a A+, with the comment “you can do perfect work”.  Why I didn’t major in English is beyond me.  But here I am.

“If I knew then what I know now” is a perfect adage because I would have pursued being a writer.  I can still be a writer; in fact, a writer is someone who writes.  Therefore, I am a writer.  But not the kind I dream about – a novelist, celebrated for storytelling.  

I know, I know…it’s not too late.  

Try.