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A Writer's Life

A Writer’s Life

As a kid, I was always reading. Novels and short stories, non-fiction, and encyclopedias. Hell, I even read the almanacs and dictionaries my grandparents had when nothing else was handy. Some would say the foreshadowing was on the wall – I was destined for a writer’s life.

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Why do I write?

I suppose this is a question that is something every budding writer asks. I assume they ask anyway. It seems to be a little like why paint, or garden or any other drive. The difference is that with a garden you can sit back and look at your work and enjoy. Or have guests come and admire your work.

Painting is the same. There it is, the art, on the wall for all to see.

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