I love weaving the written word. It's something I have to do.
When I was 11 years old I came down with the chicken pox. Restricted to my bedroom, I grew amazingly bored watching Bob Ross paint his happy little trees on our crappy little black-and-white TV, so I picked up a #2 pencil and a spiral notebook.
Four days later I had a 28 page story about the kids I grew up with in my neighborhood: tales of flashlight tag and first kisses and sleepovers jam packed with secrets. My dad took the little novella to his office, made photocopies, and I handed it out to all my friends.
I've been hooked ever since.
Copyright 2016 Tara Swanson. All rights reserved.