Books are one of my first loves.  When my grandmother would visit while I was little, I would gather a sizable stack of books for her to read to me, and she always did.  As I grew older my love for books grew and I often read myself to sleep, only after switching back and forth between eyes in order to give one a rest while the other read and hopefully stay awake longer. I've been writing for as long as I remember knowing how.  I started with stories about the origins of camels' humps and strange planets one could only travel to while riding a flying cat, and now I keep a blog of randomness and have so far published semi-autobiographical fiction that captures my wit and sarcasm. My ninth grade English teacher, Mr. Boyers, is the one who discovered and encouraged my writing talent and habit. Once I graduated from high school, I didn't have as much time to write, until I felt an urging from the inside and remembered my passion and Mr. Boyers's encouragement.  I was afraid I had lost the talent, but once you have it, you always have it, but you must work on polishing it.  I've finally been able to make my writing the priority I always wanted it to be.