Every writer has their own style and approach to a story. Some research first, others outline and plan, and some dive right in with nothing more than a name and a vague idea for where their novel might end up. As you can probably guess, I’m not one of those people.
Crying at books has always been a staple. But what I wasn’t expecting, on that sunny Saturday morning in May, late into my junior year of high school, was to fear them.
I have been given a lot of advice. And while a great deal of it has been good (and, naturally, a great deal has been truly terrible as well,) nothing has yet come to claim the crown as these simple words from my grandfather.
What do I do when I’m not writing? The things that will inspire me. The things that make me happy.
I always feel the need to explain myself, as if I have to justify that I’ve just called myself a writer, even though that’s exactly what I am.
In the great spectrum of history and the universe, my Bachelor’s degree does not hold up to the onslaught of information, facts, figures, and theories that make up all of humanity, nature, and what we do not know. And that’s awesome.
But nearly three years have passed and my love for the romance audiobook has grown out of control. Here are some of the reasons I swear by audiobooks.