the power of words.

     There’s nothing that inspires me more than unraveling the beautiful words and writers. From the perfectly depicted love stories to the mysterious murder novels. I adore them all. I‘m fond of the idea of more or less being able to create your own characters in your head. The writer gives you their description and entails their personalities throughout their story and you are able to use your imagination as your wish to mentally picture these charters in these pages.

     Reading has always been such an important part of my life. I have always had a love for it but somehow my life has found  way to get in the middle of that. I am constantly busy with so much and hardly allow myself time to read and recollect the very root of inspiration I have to write. When I was younger I used to write stories all the time. I used to write poetry and expressed myself through my words. I would sometimes base these stories on my dreams, my nightmares, my fears. I had so many going on at once. I had and still have notebooks filled with my handwriting. I didn’t get my first laptop until I was older but even then I still preferred to handwrite my stories. There was something about a pen and paper that really felt like I was releasing my inner thoughts. I remember sneaking my notebook out in class and instead of paying attention I was focusing on my future novel.

     I had a best friend who loved to write as well. I feel like she had a much deeper aspiration to truly become a writer. She was exquisite with her words and really good at creating characters, really getting the reader to be engaged in the story she was creating. She would write for hours. I believe she actually went to be an english major and is even working on her first novel. Kudos to her. I truly believe she can go far with her writing.

     I may have mentioned this before but I made it a goal of mine to read 100 books this year. The more I thought about it the more complicated I realized that might be. I mean the year only has 52 weeks so 2 books a week?? That’s a little crazy but then when I broke it down to months thats 8 books a month so that seems a little more attainable. There are times when I can really get into a book and knock it out in a weekend or if I read a poetry book I can finish it in a few days. All in all, I’ll be happy if I accomplish 50 by the end of the year because that’s over double what I did last year.

     I personally think that there are times when I’m reading that I kind of draw it out some simply because I don’t want the book to end. The writer is so good at what he/she does that I get so caught up in the character’s lives. I become best friends with their best friends. I hate who they hate. Sometimes, I picture books as their own little universes like it still continues long after the book is over. As if, in another realm it truly exists.

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