I don't consider myself to be particularly good at writing. At least not usually. I just happen to type out what I think as I think it. See? Doesn't it sound so natural, are you quite impressed with me yet?

Probably not.

I'm sure that's okay, it's probably fine.

I digress, I wouldn't call this writing. It's more like silently talking to a keyboard at 2:35am while procrastinating reading Richard the Third for my English class.

True writing can be found in most fiction novels, scribbled into prose and drawn into poetry. It's invocative and intoxicating. It transports you to wherever the author has placed you, it's one of the hardest skills to master.

I think that if you catch me on the right day, with just the right amount of awareness, and a sprinkling of imagination that I could pump out two or three good sentences.

But please don't call me a writer, it would be a great insult to those who can type for longer than fifteen minutes before dozing off to imagine a book that will never come to fruition.