When I was a little girl, everything around me became a potential story-source. I viewed the world in a wholly unspoiled lens of imagination. Throughout each day, I would prattle on and on to myself, family, and friends my countless character ideas and story points. It was a magical time. Many writers might mourn the loss of their childhood simply for the ideas they mislaid in aging. When you’re a child, you hardly think of rushing to a notebook to write down every spare snippet of your imagi...
Published on April 06, 2013 05:00