That’s a question we ask ourselves throughout our lives. When we are children that question eeks out from between our lips nearly whenever we are told anything, usually to the annoyance of those around us. Humans are just plain curious.

So, why do I write?

What is it about writing that makes me want to do it? Why would I stay up so late that I can barely keep my eyes open just to finish a scene or chapter?

Well, first off, I love telling a story. I love being able to weave together different characters with different personalities and putting them all together in one great big adventure.

But there is another reason, a bigger reason.

In this world, where we are often surrounded by darkness, hope is a longed for but often elusive treasure. I’ve seen this darkness, even touched it. And I know that hope and love often feel like just fantasies that other people talk about.

Please, believe me when I tell you that there is love and there is hope. It’s always there, just waiting for you.

That is why I write.

I want to show everyone stuck in that darkness, and to remind those that are out of its hold, that there is hope, there is light, and there is love.