Tag: life

About Me

Inexpressible

Autumn

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I have problems.

I know, right? A writer with problems? Like that’s never happened before.

I’m the sort that’s always laughing at myself, because learning how to laugh was the only way to survive. So when I come across pictures like this, I usually get a good chuckle.

Yep, that’s me. You have no idea how emotionally messed up I am.

Eight years ago I realized that a certain state of brokenness was utterly essential for writing. You can’t be completely incapacitated, but you also can’t just talk about it with a good friend over a cup of tea to solve a problem — it needs to be beyond what you can ordinarily express.

It turns into creativity.

And you cannot write without creativity.

About Me

Who I Am

Autumn

I spent the entirety of my teen years writing. When all the other kids in my Creative Writing classes were planning out back-up careers “in case writing didn’t work out,” for me there was only one option:

I am a writer.

Through and through.

Spending my formative teenage years focused on only one goal has embedded it deeply into my identity. Sure, as an adult I’ve thought of other options that could keep me busy once my children are old enough to manage themselves (and help out around the house, ha ha), but everything seems gray and lifeless compared to the prospect of weaving characters and worlds to indulge in. How could I exist without those other identities living inside of me? Even if I never find a single reader, I would still write novels.

It’s who I am.

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About Me

January Blues

Autumn

To be honest, January is always my worst month, and this year hit me harder than I had anticipated. While I didn’t mind the snow and freezing temperatures, my emotional state suddenly plummeted when it rained. I switched into survival mode as old memories came flooding back, threatening to drown me.

The anniversary date has now come and gone, and I can breathe again. I can exist again.

I don’t think of myself as one of those modern trendy authors who writes fan fiction of all my sordid fantasies. I’m old fashioned, and I enjoy exploring the question of what it means to be human — particularly in the face of trauma — and I hope to gain a better understanding of myself.

Life is too precious to bumble through without trying to understand it.

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