Author has written 5 stories for General, Life, and Young Adult.
Writing. It's all we have anymore, isn't it? It's the only way that we can truly express our souls in a way that only the author can understand what it means. It defines everything we are; the greatest lessons can be learned through the writings of some of the world's greatest. We rely so much on this language in this, its written form. Many tales have been woven through pen onto crumpled parchment. Writing is the essence of what we are; it bares a soul to the deepest chords, kind of like music. In a way, letters and words can become the notes of a soul, just waiting to be read and devoured by the soul of another.
Writing. It throws the restraints from our minds and limbs, setting us free in a way that we can never quite comprehend. Perhaps because we never have to be what others want; we can always be ourselves. For once, pretence and lies have no place, even in fiction. Whatever we write, we place a little piece of our souls into it; these words that form paragraphs for anyone to read and interpret as they will. Authors are brave people, placing their souls in front of the universe for public scrutiny. Few people are capable of giving pieces of themselves to the world; there aren't many brave enough.
Stories capture and hold us spellbound as we read and learn of the experiences of another. For some reason, it is through writing that we can truly understand our fellow human beings. I believe that that reason is the tiny portion of soul trapped and ensnared within the uniform letters. That's why people guard diaries and journals so thoroughly; their soul is displayed within the pages, held imprisoned by the written words. After a time, these words become part of the author's being. But if the writing is rejected and thrown away, a part of the writer's soul is never replaced. I guess that's why I have so many old scraps of paper lying around and filling my filing cabinet to the brim.
I need to be more organised, but I must ask how that is possible. My locker, desk, floor and any other storage space is crammed with written ideas; little pieces of my soul that I am at loath to part with. A messy, chaotic, untidy living space reflects a busy, inquisitive mind too focused on the universe's stories to bother with such trivial, insignificant things as cleaning my bedroom. I am one of those who weave their soul into their writing, living off the words on the paper. It is my air. My life. I don't need anything else.
I am one who creates stories from the depths of my soul, not caring who or what they create and affect. I am the Torn Weaver.
~Alexa Piper. Enjoy my story.