Because I am a writer.
Because I want to make a difference.
Because I really care about people and the world.
Because my checking account is at $136.00
Because I have always loved telling stories.
Because I have already lived a thousand lives inside my own head.
Because I really can make a difference.
Because my daughter still kisses me at night.
Because she asks me to tell her one more story.
Because of campfires and conventions where I can bring the fire.
Because I have made mistakes and I want to teach what I know.
Because what I do for a living matters to me, to the deepest part of my soul.
Because I am different, just like you, and you, and you…
Because I have a voice and a tale that can only be told by me.
Because I have been inspired and found myself needing the universe’s attention.
Because I want to.
Because I wish I could.
Because it seems impossible, and I hate people telling me what to do.
Because my father is an actor.
Because my mother is chosen of God.
Because I can.
This is why I don’t give up on days like today, when I look at the empty page and scream out loud. This is why I write until my wrists ache and my eyes hurt. This is why I keep on keepin’ on, even though I am so far away from what I want to be that I feel lost at one end of the galaxy while my dreams lie on the other.
Because I believe.
You Have Time for Just One More:
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