Thoughts

This summer has been rejuvenating.

I've found time to relax, which was definitely needed in my life.

I've found time to read again, savor a book, let the question it raises change my mind and often my soul, and become friends with the characters. It is an incredible thing to let someone's story change your life; that is why books are so powerful.

But perhaps even more important to me is that I've found time to write again. In the flurry of assignments, work, and other semester-drudgeries, writing my own stories gets put aside. I can't do that to myself. Fortunately, one of my friends and I created our own writing group to share our stories, and it motivates me to write. And the more I write, the more alive I feel.

I'm realizing that my hobby for writing is more than just a hobby--it's a need. I have a need to create beauty; I have a need to share stories; I have a need to use my imagination. I thrive on creation; on breathing life into characters. I feel complete by pouring my questions into a plot; my soul into a tale. I get excited when I think of new plot twists and character developments. I love it when my prose sings truth.

The stories I write are powerful. And I don't mean that in a prideful way, because goodness knows I have so much to work on. More than I'd like to admit.

But my stories are changing my life. And if that isn't powerful, I don't know what is.