When I was a kid, I knew I wanted to be a writer.
I had (and still have) an infatuation with books, perhaps because of the limitless possibilities that lay inside.
My dad always nurtured my interests, but in interesting ways. One year, he gave me a collegiate-level writing style guide for my birthday.
My mom would take us to the library to borrow stacks of books, and she must have known my affinity for empty journals, because I had more notebooks than I knew what to do with.
Today, I develop websites, but it pays for my reading habit.
Little Fiction 