As far back as I can remember, I've loved writing. I suppose I was an avid reader first, and that ability for authors to bring worlds and people alive through their pen, became a fascinating ability to me. I've always wanted to write that book that draws you in, that becomes a reality to you for those hours lost in its pages. To create the characters that feel like a part of your world, the ones that can make you laugh or cry or even scream in frustration. But, too often when I sit down to write, my head becomes a jumbled mess of thoughts, bouncing from one idea to another, unable to form a cohesive idea to put down on paper. Perhaps that's all my writing will ever amount to, a bunch of rambling snapshots of my head at that date and time. I suppose only time will tell.