January 5, 2011
Growing up is...interesting. Everything changes, with every year that goes by - the length of your hair, the freckles on your nose, the clothes you wear...even your writing. Which is why the stories that I've posted here have been deleted. I am not the same writer I was when I was 16. Almost eight years of life, of new experiences, of losing old friends and making new ones, has a tendency to change the way your fingers dance across a keyboard and how your pen glides across paper. That said, while the old may be weaker than the new, that does not change that fact that I created a story. Such things can never be deleted or forgotten, and up to this very day, I still had new readers. So, the old stories rest in the vault of my external hard drive, to be one of two things: the source of inspiration for new stories, or to be reborn anew, like a phoenix from the ashes of old dust.
For now, though, we shall see what the future entails...it is a new year, after all...
"Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia." ~ E.L. Doctorow, American author and editor