One of my earliest memories as a creative person is sharing the picture book I made at school with my parents. It was a cardboard bound book covered in textured wallpaper. Each of the handful of pages had three black lines for writing my story with blank space to draw a corresponding picture of sophisticated stick figures above. When I got home, I showed it to them in the living room, the special room with the white rug typically reserved for holidays. When they praised my young talent, a spark was ignited.
Since then, I wrote mostly within my diaries, journals, and Books of Everything (as I refer to them). There I captured my deepest truths and darkest thoughts (as well as endless To Do lists).
Interested in publishing my writing? Let me know!