In the midst of the process of leaving my familiar home and preparing to embark upon my college career, I found myself having to say another, quite unexpected, goodbye. The hard drive on my faithful laptop, which had seen me through four years of high school, suffered an internal error and, sadly, passed away. With it, most unfortunately, went all of my documents, including every single one of my stories, my outlines, my journal and my essays. Most of you, I am sure, will share my sympathy, especially about the two former.

I found myself, after this unexpected disaster, with the option to follow one of two courses. I could download the part of my writing which has been stored on this website and attempt to assemble the pieces without all of my lost chapters and planning documents, while mourning for the loss of some of my best,unpostedwriting. Or, I could break all ties with the past, abandoning all that I have written and starting fresh. It was quite a dilemna.

Someone asked me once why I did not bother to back up all of my stories. I told them that it was because I had never written anything of significance. That statement was only partially correct. I have never written a story which has conveyed what I sought to imbue in a reader. I have never written a story worthy of publication. However, my stories had great value to me. They were mybeginnings. The Last of the Ancients, Desdemona, Adele's Mistake and all of the others were my childhood and my adolescence, my first awkward footsteps into the literary world; FictionPress.com was fertile ground on which my experiments were tried.

I have known for nearly a year that this familiar setting is no longer conducive to my growth as a writer.

Recently, I have acknowledged that my stories are no longerrepresentative of my ability and are no longer worthy of continuation. Rather than striving to create a work of value, I have beensuccumbing to the temptation upon my vanity to write for others, rather than to write for myself. Reviewers and loyal readers, forgive me. I have inflicted an injusticeunto you andunto myself. I have been writing aimlessly, without thought and without direction, driven by my ego, fueled by reviews.

Having admitted my error, I must now admit that I have chosen to discontinue all stories posted on this website. This has been an extremely difficult decision, but I cannot, after having examined my own values and motivations carefully, continue to dabble lazily in the literary world. With my intentions clear, the loss of the bulk of my writing gives me a very clear advantage. I am no longer encumbered by the mistakes of the past, but am free to begin again with an empty sheet of paper.

While this is an end to my writing on FictionPress, this is not an end to my writing. I will fill my blank paper with a new beginning, a better beginning. When I find an end, I will let you, my readers, know.