Writing is... the only thing that keeps me alive

A few weeks ago, Carrie Clevenger tagged me in a blog entitled Writing is...

And, typically, it takes me a while to respond to stuff, especially when it comes to defining how I feel about the topic. Plainly put, the only reason why I haven't shuffled off this mortal coil yet is because of writing. I have stories to tell. I exist and am defined by the stories I write.

For me the art of writing is about magic, about changing reality in accordance with my will. While I'm quite honest about the fact that I'm not going to write the next earth-shattering work of literary greatness, I'm going to tell a lot of stories.

Be they horror or works of erotic fiction, it doesn't matter. When I enter that creative space, it's akin to an act of lucid dreaming where I synthesize my thoughts and feelings and mix them with life experiences in an act of imagination.

My writing acts as a refuge, for when the mundane world eats away at my childlike sense of wonder and threatens to drown me in banality. For a few hours I can escape the tragic comedy that is reality and swap it for worlds where anything can happen.

If I didn't have this form of self-expression, I'd have no reason to continue living. Take away my writing and you remove the one thing I have always been passionate about. I will continue to tell stories, to whisk my readers into realms of make-believe. I love telling stories. I love showing people worlds they could never have imagined.

Through telling stories I hope to inspire others to reach beyond themselves and grasp that flame within themselves.

I'm tagging Cat Hellisen, Annette Bowman, Sonya Clark, Manda Benson and Pam Turner.

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