Occasional thoughts from a young adult reveling in the messiness of life.
Why do we do the things we do? As someone who was raised to put more faith in logic and rational than anything else, I constantly struggle with the “whys” in life. But one that I don’t often struggle with is why I write. It’s an answer that I’ve always just known.
I was born to be a storyteller.
Now, I don’t claim to be a great storyteller, but it’s something that’s just always been there.
When I was around 8 or 9 years old, I was remember being moved by the way the sun sparkled on the surface of a lake we were driving by on the way to a family outing. The thoughts in my head strung together, finding meter and rhyme as if poetry was the only medium that could capture the beauty of what I was seeing.
I wrote my first poem then and continued to write poetry through my first few years of college, where poetry writing gave way to short fiction. Looking for a way to continue doing what I love while actually making a living, I honed my professional writing skills in grad school and embarked on a career in marketing and public relations—professional storytelling, as I like to think of it.
These days in my (not so) spare time, I write because in many ways I have no choice. There’s a feeling I get–an overwhelming moment where I realize that something is coming out whether I like it or not—and the second I put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard, I feel a great release as the words come pouring out of me.
It’s an amazing feeling for me, and I hope that you enjoy what you find on the pages here.