I’ve been kicking the idea around to create a blog so I have somewhere to write. In school I always did better at writing regularly when I had deadlines to meet, and a workshop where my stories would be reviewed and discussed. Now that it’s just me, and that I’ve accepted I never wanted to be a starving artist, it’s more difficult to keep to any sort of schedule. Without the threat of a failing grade and the embarrassment of having no pages to present, what is there to motivate me to start?

It’s been twenty years since then and I still have it in my head that I want to write. It’s difficult to comprehend that a generation has passed, and I still feel like the teenager who was excited about writing assignments and any school project that allowed me to be creative, yet I’ve only done the occasional journal entry.

Throughout the years I’ve thought about writing short stories, a novel, flash fiction, screenplays, tv scripts, both fiction and non-fiction. I never thought about sticking to one format (jack of all trades, much like my career), since I felt different stories were better suited to certain formats.

I hope to explore my interests here in whatever form feels right, and I’m no longer worrying about why I want to write, coming up with a justification, or some deep intellectual reason behind it. I like it, I think about it all the time; it’s just there. If I can entertain someone and myself, learn something about myself or others, connect with anyone over a shared experience and show that we’re alone but not in our experiences, any one of these reasons is more than enough. Life is hard without making it harder on myself.