When I was a teenager, I wrote for myself. I had my far off dream of publication, of course, but in the actual process of writing, I could make the world melt away and focus on nothing but the story. The middle of the night would shift into dawn and I would wonder where the time went. I wrote to distract myself from important things, like homework or errands or exams. Writing was a guilty pleasure, a delightful little crime.
The Safe Zone
The Safe Zone
The Safe Zone
When I was a teenager, I wrote for myself. I had my far off dream of publication, of course, but in the actual process of writing, I could make the world melt away and focus on nothing but the story. The middle of the night would shift into dawn and I would wonder where the time went. I wrote to distract myself from important things, like homework or errands or exams. Writing was a guilty pleasure, a delightful little crime.