Writing for me is many things, one of them being a way to get my thoughts and emotions out. To solidify what is an abstract concept in my head into something more solid, more reachable. I started reading because I had books, and these books proved an escape from a daily life I didn’t like. The stories that gave me courage, and inspired me and made me wish for something better. The boy who rode a dragon, the girl who pointed out the hypocrisy in adults actions. The wild ride that were myths and legends from the days of yore. Sometimes they made me smile, sometimes they made me sniff. Some of the best taught me and left a lasting impact. For me, I wanted to eventually create a world filled with things I thought of. To experiment with concepts and personalities. I became invested in it, and sought to become a better writer. And now while I only write for myself I love sharing the things I write. It may be occasional and not often that I write but I will always long to create something. Then I just have to stop procrastinating and start writing. Maybe someday, I’ll be able to write well enough to impact someone the way other books impacted me.
Sophia Dukhota
Check out a piece of Sophia’s writing called “I Grew Up”
Creatively Constipated 