There is little to no magic in this bleak world we live in. There are no magical creatures, no magic spells and potions, and no princesses trapped in ivory towers guarded by  vicious dragons with princes riding in on majestic stallions with their swords in hand to save them. Instead, we have bratty little rich girls toting around their starbucks coffee and rude boys wielding iPhones and the worst weapon of all- Axe.    But there is one bit of magic we have in this world. It's something with a power few people understand. You see them everywhere and use them every day. They're used to write essays for school, take stock in stores, learn about past events, and even level out wobbly tables with uneven legs. Not everyone uses them to their full potential- some take them for granted or think them to only be useful for passing tests while others fear the ridicule of others and the horror of the labels "bookworm" or "nerd" and avoid them. 
     The only bit of magic we have are books.
     They transport you to worlds of magic, mystery, and wonder where unique and lovable characters are just waiting for you to witness their story unfold. Books are like portals to the distant future where people made of metal and flying cars are the norm or rewind the clock and toss you into the past where the earth is still believed to be flat. And these places are created with mere ink and paper by the most imaginative, talented, most interesting people you'll ever meet- writers. Writers can create entire worlds of their choosing and fill them with what and who ever they like. They can set their own stage and write their own play.
     That is why I write- to create my own worlds and characters to fill them with. I want my stories to be the hardest ones to put down- the ones that make you want to throw the book across the room in frustration, laugh at the characters little shenanigans, and cry when one of them is lost.  
     But I have a long way to go before that happens.