Author has written 6 stories for Life, General, Fable, and Play.
Age: Check the time, remove one or two digits depending, that is my age.
Varied and many.
Well, brought is one way to put it; another way would be she came in screaming loud enough to shatter glass, and quite honestly, she hasn't shut up since.
The little girl grew up, as little girls tend to do. She spent her first years of schooling with a pencil in her hand and a word upon her tongue, and for the life of her she couldn't figure out what the word was. She spent years trying to find it. She cycled through different schools and different friends and different words scratched upon loose-leaf sheets of paper, all the while with this word on her tongue.
Until one day she happened upon it by accident at the age of nine. Writer. The word came unbidden into her mind and stayed there. It wasn't a shunned thought, but it was a strange one. Writer. What did that mean to her? Why did she think of it? She paused, then continued on her way as if nothing earthshattering had happened to her. The word was a continued weight on her mind.
Over the next few months the word, writer, had taken root inside her brain and made itself quite happy and at home insider her thoughts and actions. Those arbitrary words on arbitrary papers came together, they took form, shape and began to be understood; that pencil, her constant companion for years, never far from reach, stopped being used for formless drawings and for its real purpose. She began to paint her pictures with words. The colours she came to associate wither herself were black and white, and she began to understand just what writer meant.
As her peers grew up around her, she grew too; in body though more than mind. Her imagination routinely exercised, her wisdom came from books, her reality formed by magic words. She realized that she could grow older without growing up, and that suited her just fine. She remained happy and optimistic, finding common ground with whoever she encountered, hoping that she could bring at least a smile to their day. She noticed the little things, wondered the odder mysteries, discovered the greatest answers, and all the while she continued to be only what she knew she needed to be: writer.
Other things snagged her interest. One day History swept in and took a place in her heart and passions. A love of music followed soon after. Writing had to learn to share and it was never a difficult adjustment.
More places, more friends, more words, and still she remains a writer.
That is how our story begins, and the best part? It's still going.
lol so I wrote that when I was like fourteen, and still afraid of sharing my real name on the internet so that was...oh about seven years ago now. A lot has changed since then. I moved to a different state, started high school, almost died, started college, have barely written a thing in all that time and YEAH. Regardless, I think that bio is (at the very least) amusing so I'm gonna keep it up there bc growth or whatever. But hey there howdy welcome one and all I hope at least one of you is picking up what I'm putting down if you know what I'm say.