So, this is my introduction post.
I have nothing interesting to say. I cannot think. That’s what happens when you drain all your energy reading a Ted Dekker book in one day… or a half a day. Common occurrence for me. I love reading.
I’m not emo, I’m not preppy, I’m not goth, I’m not punk, I’m not normal, I’m not crazy… ok, wait, now I’m starting to fabricate. Maybe I am crazy. You decide.
I’m a writer. Ever met a writer? Perhaps you’re one yourself.
If you’ve never met a writer, your in for a surprise.
We run outside in the middle of the night with a cloak on in bare feet.
We use our (or our mothers) eyeliner sharpeners to sharpen pencils.
We find something as simple as wadded up gold candy wrappers inspiring.
We always have to dissect every book we read.
We find the typos and misprints in books more easily then we find our own shoes.
We poke fun at plastic toys and actually use them to act out scenes from our story.
We talk about our characters like they are real.
We talk about our characters so much that your friends begin to wonder if they really are real.
There should be much more added to that list, but I’m too tired.
I will be starting another blog for costuming/jewelry/crafts I make. That’ll be fun!
Last words: I hate my slow internet connection.
-
