I am on the cliff of inspiration, dangling dangerously between my wild and another. I take none with me. This is a journey I must face on my own. "Home is behinds, the world ahead" (Tolkien). The wind of wonder tickles my face and blows my hair toward the cliff as if daring me to step over the edge. I know that once take that step, there is no turning back. I will be labeled. Am I ready for this? Am I brave enough, strong enough to let go of my lazy, cowardice nature and take on this adventure?

I turn my back to the daunting cliff. I begin to walk away. Immediately the wind stops as if it thought I was a hopeless cause. Fears and doubt circle In my mind, a tornado overwhelming my senses. I cannot live my life with this current of creativity running through my blood and never let it out. For you long I have kept it hidden, too long kept it quiet. Now I will show my true colors. 

I stopped in my tracks. An eerie silence followed as the world waited and watched. Abruptly, I turned and was over the cliff faster than I thought I was capable of. The wind whirled around me. I swear I flew for a moment before plummeting straight down toward the bottom, hidden in a cloud of shadow and fog. 

I now travel in dangerous trails, pursuing the goal of my first novel. If you attempt to follow me, I warn you, a whirlwind of an undeveloped story is ahead of you... this is who I am. 

I am a writer.