About me

Words are like little demons; they sneak upon me in the night and demand their attention. They all eagerly present their stories to me and persuade me to use my fingers and make a string of sentences that will soon be a paragraph. Words, though demons themselves, can be angelic beings. They can descend with sweetness upon my mind, mouth, and fingertips. They wisper sweet innocent stories that demand to be told. Many are too precious and valuable to ignore; the other ones, the ones that are sticky traps, are my little demons. It is my job to sort through the voices, the stories, and the thoughts to compose a peice.
I'm an author.
Words come to me like breathing may come to you. I will repeat it over and over until you get the fact that I'm serious. Words come to me as easily as breathing. I think it, I ponder it, and I write. Simple, easy, natural process that makes me grin while I do it. It's fun, and it's something I enjoy. I would just sit and let my fingers fly across the keyboard if I could afford to do that. I have a life though. So I guess I have to get up and get out sometimes.
As fun as writing is; my writing would be dead without it's partner, Music. In my world they go hand in hand. I'm writing, expect a song that matches the mood of the book to be playing. I will sing until my throat goes sore, and after singing for hours and hours on end without ceasing day after day; It can take a while for my throat to hit it's breaking point, folks.
WAIT! Before you stop reading, I MUST tell you!
Without the muic there would be no writing, but without God the music would have no meaning to me. I am infact a broken, idiotic person without God. I don't get much done and I don't have much to say on anything. i'm broken. It's the truth. Don't ask about it. I'll tell you when I get the guts to tell you. Here's the thing though. You're broken to. We're all broken. Shattered remains of what we could be, but then God comes along and says "Ok, we're going to do a little fixing up here." and then slowly yet surely, with his help, you become a beautiful figure. You become a mosaic. Light shimmer's through you, don't take it for granted. You still need to work. There's something dogging you. Work on it.
So, I'm here to tell you this: We're broken. (yes! We as in A team!) I'm also here to tell you this: you can be fixed. Because really, you're beautiful.