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Of all the questions that I am asked, probably the most common is, “Why do you write?” This is actually a very difficult question to answer. Writing is something that comes from deep inside one’s soul. For me, weaving a tale is very much like how a knitter weaves a sweater. It requires work, attention, focus, and inspiration.

Writing is a way to express myself, to touch the heart and mind of a reader. I think my writing appeals to a certain reader, usually someone with a Master’s Degree or Doctorate and is a lover of poetry and the classics.

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I’ve always dreamt of being a novelist, and to share my own thoughts and feelings with like-minded intellectuals and artists.

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Sometimes, as I write, I like to imagine my readers as they hold my writing in their hands and I transport them into another world.

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I like the fact that through my words, I can make them cry or even lift their spirits like balloons.

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I love to communicate. Sometimes, I wish I could just reach out from inside my own words and show my appreciation to my readers.

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I especially love it when I can personally touch them.

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Of course, I also write for myself. Nothing gives me more pleasure than coming up with a well-turned phrase or a poetic way of expressing myself. But I wouldn’t be satisfied if I knew I wasn’t also pleasuring my faithful readers with the power of my words and stories.

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Sometimes I struggle with my writing, like today. On days like that, I try to motivate myself by thinking about a future reader, an intelligent, thoughtful individual, taking my first novel home from the library, curling up in bed at night, and reading me until she can’t read anymore, then waking up in the morning and reading me again.

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That’s why I write. Why do you write?

(all photos from Babes with Books) — you can find anything online!

Update:  Just a note, to those who who accuse me of only writing for an audience of big-breasted woman:  that is absurd, especially after seeing all the trouble Sophia has to go through to find a bra that properly fits.   What a pleasure it must be to go through life without having to wear a bra!  I salute you!  You are in my thoughts just as frequently as everyone with a size D!  Please examine photos 2 and 3 as evidence of women who don’t fit into the category of “big-bazoomed.”  

Let me also go on record that my readership goes far beyond the all-white women on the Babes with Books website.  I can think of nothing more satisying than my first novel being the “monthly pick” of the Compton Ladies’ Book Group:

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A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: Beverly Hills Doctor