Hi

Hi. Nice to meet you.


I must be honest. I'm not writing for you. I'm writing for me. I'm writing for the people who run around and do amazing things in my imagination. The characters who are crushed, flattened and resurrected. And not necessarily in that order.


If I could be disrespectful, please, I'd liken myself to god or.. a god. I'm the all-seeing being watching these people trip over themselves and stand back up. I'm the god of my imagination. I'm the proud parent presenting my children to the world. They're perfectly flawed.


I write to give my world a voice, to let my characters have the freedom to speak to you, move you and infect you. But ah, I'm not an author, just a writer, because I write. That's the only thing that makes me a writer. We all are. In fact, if by calling myself a writer I need some kind of qualification, I'm not a writer at all, just a voice. 


I write because I love words, the way they flow and dance and teeter, fall and stand. But I'm clumsy and I fumble with them, and more often than not, they stumble and trip rather than fly. 


But read me and help me, even if I'm not writing for you. Will you support me? Savour me? Criticize me? Please?


I must warn you though, I'm not just a voice. I take photographs, not well. I travel, but not often. I cook, but burn. 


I hope you enjoy this blog, Qwerky, not just for its literary qualities but because there's a piece of me. Well most paragraphs start with an 'I' anyway. I hope you've learnt a little about me and would like to know more. I hope you share my hopes and dreams and wish for my best. I hope you'll comment to leave a little piece of you, so this blog won't be the self-centered blog it's threatening to become.


- Lena