Tag: writing a book
I write to allow my deepest thoughts and feelings to bleed onto pages, gifting them a new home. Sometimes just on blank papers or documents, only to never be seen again, and sometimes- if I am lucky- into the hearts of others. I equally consume words to fill me back up. I look at what others have bled onto their own pages, and I marvel, I gawk. It is magic to read words from someone else’s heart and to feel as if they have lived in your soul for a very long time. A homecoming, together, but apart.
For me, the process of writing itself was probably the easiest part. It was overcoming imposter syndrome that hit me like a ton of bricks… Who was I to publish a book? Who was I to think my writing was even remotely interesting?