My earliest memory of enjoying writing was in elementary school. We had a project for English class where we had to write and illustrate a story. I remember loving the process of putting the entire piece together, and drawing all of the pictures myself. The story was about an alien who landed on planet Earth, and everyone was treating him differently and being unkind. By the end of the story, everyone befriended him.
I remember enjoying writing the story because I could make up the ending how I wanted to. I could complete the ending in a way that satisfied me (as a reader). Even to this day some 40 years later, I can still see the hand drawn illustrations in my head.
I enjoyed the power of creating a character, and seeing how the character reacts in certain situations, and then seeing what happens next. I know that characters take on a life of their own, and as the author, it is perfectly reasonable to say, “no, my character would not do that.” It’s gratifying to know another individual (even if they are made up) in that deep, instinctual way.
Since that time, I have always written. I’ve written either short stories, prose, poetry, or at a minimum, a journal to capture my thoughts. I truly enjoy creating my own little world.