I write because I must. I have never tried to stop… probably because I know I couldn’t. And why would I want to?
I write because it makes me happy. Reality can sometimes be a bit of a disappointment (understatement… let’s face it – sometimes it sucks hairy monkey balls). Whenever I begin to think I cannot possibly make it through this, I run away for a while… with words. When I write, I go somewhere else. Somewhere that is not reality. Well, not my reality. And I love it. I love it more than what would likely be considered healthy.
When someone asks me where I would live if I could choose anywhere on earth, I always have the same response. In one of my stories. Hey, those are in my head. I am on earth. Ergo, that counts. Right?
–Posted for Writing 101: day 1