I write because I am 41 years old and want a career that I am passionate about, and I’m too old to be a Hooters girl.
I write to say all the things I have pushed down and bottled up because I haven’t had the courage or opportunity to say them out loud in the moment.
I write because one day the class clown grows up and needs a new audience to feed off and entertain.
I write because laughter heals, and some people don’t have anyone in their life to heal them.
I write because it puts me in the state of mind where I can stand in the frigid air under falling snowflakes and appreciate the beauty and stillness of that moment in time instead of first thinking that my back hurts from shoveling.
I write because since I’ve started again the ideas flow like Niagara Falls, and all I want to do is climb in a barrel (after drinking all the wine of course) and feeling the thrill of where the water takes me–ignoring the fact I will probably smash against the rocks below and die–but what a thrill it would be.