I was born with a pen in my right hand and a notepad in the other! See, I’m naked without my pen; white space is my playground. The stroke of the keyboard tickles my soul. I didn’t decide to become a writer; I was born with this gift.
Writing is, and always has been, my outlet. Sixteen diaries sit in my closet – each one packed with secrets that I dare not express verbally. Sure, writing a novel is a huge accomplishment, but it’s merely half of my success. Some of my best work is written in my blogs because they are random and often very telling of my mood.
Writing is my true freedom of speech. Becoming a writer wasn’t a choice; it was God’s way of giving me a voice. I didn’t choose to write, writing chose me.
I’m not certain where all of this passion for the craft will lead me. All I can tell you is, I aim to elevate after elevating. There’s no end to my playbook, no ceiling to my penthouse.
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