Writing, just like any other form of creative expression, is an art. While a painter or carpenter's work may be more quickly appreciated after a minute of gazing upon it, a writer's work is just as much of a time investment for the reader as it was the writer. It takes significantly longer to read a short story, poem, or novel than it does to look upon a sketch or beautiful painting.

But I still love to do it. Even if my art takes hours to appreciate and not everyone is going to appreciate it. Anyone can walk by a painting and see its beauty. It takes a special person to pick up a book and embark on the adventure the writer has crafted for them.

Even if I could craft dazzling sketches and intricate paintings, my art form of choice at the end of the day will always be writing.

There is something truly mystical about bringing the worlds that I have created in my mind to life on the page. I watch as a girl who has practiced magic within my mind for years starts casting spells across the page. It is her life I am crafting, that I am simply conveying to the world. Writers' insanity is its own breed, as my dear friend Seraphel will nag me in the back of my mind to continue to write about her. To tell her story to those who need to hear it.

I see the spanning Adestrian Mountains in my mind. Their snowcapped peaks soaring far up behind the castle's stone walls and into the crystalline blue of the heavens and clouds. The wind is whistling lightly around them as it tugs at my hair, and I can feel this, and see this as I write. I am walking through Seraphel's world with her as she tells me her story, brings me through it. Her emotions are felt by my heart as I type of trickery and deceit, betrayal and death.

Yes, she is an entity that does not breathe our air, but in my mind, she rides across the mountains on her steed's back.

I love writing because of the chills it gives me. As I'm conveying my character's story, I am immersed in the world with them. I stand by Seraphel's side as she discovers horrors, is gripped by fear, as she triumphs. I know Seraphel just as much as her fellow characters and often find solace in her words as I write. I am able to escape from Earth and travel to Remar where magic runs through everyone's veins and forests span seemingly infinite spaces.

I'm able to share the amazing things I have seen. I'm able to give others an escape, an adventure to embark on. I'm opening the door to Remar for them, or whatever space is the subject in a piece. My heart swells and flutters with this content excitement as I give snippets to friends or hand in assignments. I pour my heart and soul into each piece, each word. I have crafted them oh-so carefully to be able to do these worlds justice.

It is only ever my hope that my readers love these places and characters as I do. But even so, I will continue to write on, even if the only one who loves it is me.