I have loved to write for as long as I can remember. As a child I used to write stories which although not particularly good, was the first sign that I would become a writer. As the years passed by and I went from being that little girl who scribbled stories into a woman who was lost in the wilderness with little hope of getting out of it. For many years my desire to write became dormant, yet it never left me. I was in my early 20s when I first attempted to write and publish a poetry book. Its title, Poetry for Humanity, was appropriate as they were all related to humans and humanity. I wrote about love, poverty, god, and nature, hoping the book would be worthy of publication. Unfortunately that book was never published. Later I realised it was probably a blessing that it had been rejected as I would have had to pay for the privilege of seeing it (my work) in print. I remember feeling more disappointed than I thought I would even though I knew it was only my first attempt at writing and I could try again if I wished to. I wrote very little for the next few years. I certainly had few aspirations to attempt another serious piece of work.

Time flew by as it has a habit of doing and I mistakenly thought I would spend the rest of my life working for someone else. I had not progressed in any sort of career and I began to wonder what I was meant to do. I would work for a few months here and there, yet nothing seemed permanent. I was, and still am, focusing on my studies in the hope that somehow my efforts would help me get that elusive job which would spark my career. The thought of working for someone else did not thrill me, yet I mistakenly assumed I didn’t have a choice. Slowly I realised I had to find opportunities to work for myself. I knew the only way I would ever achieve success would be to do what I wanted, rather than what other people thought I should do. Looking back I should have worked for myself from the beginning. Slowly I started writing again. I admit I have not written as much as perhaps I should, yet I am happy with my success to date.

Writing has definitely changed my life. I am doing the very thing I have enjoyed, yet was so slow to see. My success so far is slow; however, I ‘ve had enough to make me think I will never have to look for a traditional job again. My writing is accepted on Triond by the social community without ridicule which means far more to me than money ever will. Money is important, particularly since I’m studying and I have all the usual costs of books, bills and other expenses.

Triond has given me the confidence to produce work which people will want to read. The feed back I have received is valuable as it helps me to improve my skills. Triond has made me realise that I have time to treat my writing as an art which can be moulded and shaped into whatever I want it to be. Writing has opened up a whole new world for me. A world I would never have known before. A world full of hope and optimism that I will become one of many people who write for their own and society’s benefit. Escapism is a wonderful thing and to be able to indulge in a world of imagination and fantasy is one of many gifts on earth.

I have loved to write for as long as I can remember. As a child I used to write stories which although not particularly good, was the first sign that I would become a writer. I had written a poetry book titled Poetry for Humanity in my early 20s yet it wasn’t published. I wrote very little for the next few years believing that I would spend the rest of my life working for someone else. In conclusion I can honestly say writing has changed my life and it has changed it for the better.