Why Did I Become a Writer?

At some point, every writer is either asked or thinks over this question, like I am right now. So I decided to share my story, or at least as much as I remember.

From a young age, I’ve always had a creative mind. I constantly was creating worlds in my mind and acting them out with my toys, and other stuff. I remember using sticks and leaves sometimes, pretending they were creatures from my worlds.

I definitely got looks and a few scoldings from some adults for non-toys as if they were. Didn’t really stop me though. Don’t worry, it was never trash.

But for whatever reason, maybe because I didn’t read much until the third grade, I wanted to be an artist, the painting and drawing type.

This dream lasted a while, even took an art class in 6th grade. Not saying I didn’t have fun. I created cool art and my class went to see the Art Museum in Seattle, WA, but when I became homeschooled, that dream faded off, although had a quick resurgence in 9th grade.

I also danced for six years, and I loved every moment of it, doing hip hop, tap, and jazz. I often imagined being a professional dancer, despite the fact I started late and never took ballet. It was fun to think about though, still is. And I made cool friends along the way