Statistically speaking, the majority of us will never be royals because only 1% of us can be the 1%. We all have dreams, we all have creative expression and we all have a genuine desire to be distinguished from our pairs. For most of us though, none of it will ever be reciprocated. How do we continue with our lives knowing that our dreams may remain dreams and that our lives may never be remembered? Continue Reading
I did it. Somehow I did it. I logged into my laptop, pulled up Microsoft Word and let my fingers bleed onto the keyboard. When I began writing, I had a story in mind but after the first sentence, the nature of that story changed. I think that’s the reality of writing a book. With each sentence comes new possibilities. The writing process is therefore indistinguishable from the moving stairs in Hogwarts because new paths are constantly being made and destroyed. How thrilling… right?
Yes and no. Yes in that your story comes to life and is given the ability to rewrite itself in ways that you never imagined. No in that it sometimes feels like you don’t have control, which is a very strange feeling considering you are the one writing the story. Continue Reading
It wasn’t unusual to wake up to nothing. You could look out the window and see only yourself. North Carolina was known for her fog and every now and then, she made it known. She pulled the clouds from the sky and made them her carpet. Young Findlay liked to play on that carpet. He was a foolish boy as many young ones are. A brunette mane fell upon his head and each curl danced its own dance. As he sat upon a rusting slide, he did not notice the other children but they noticed him. They always noticed him. The sun soon climbed upon its pedestal and Findlay descended from his. He then trailed, posture without fault, to the manor at which he lived. Continue Reading