why i write

I've devoured stories since I could first remember, gulping down words considered above me to broaden my horizons. Eventually those words must spill back out. These are those words, those stories so tangled up inside me that have been aching to get out. I've too many words in my head. Sometimes I need to organize my thoughts in story, in metaphor, in characters. A college-level writing course in my teens over-prepared me and burnt me out on writing for over a decade. It's only just now that I'm returning to the medium.

I don't know that I have a singular goal with writing. I don't know whether I'll be able to stick with story writing or find myself fickle and drawn toward some other creative idea. I do know that these stories will always be in my head, though, and it's best to shake them loose every so often. One way or another, I'll be inhabiting characters and telling their tales until the day I die. I hope others find a similar solace in my words.