In some form, writing is my dream job. I like picking out and arranging and manipulating words. I love it when I read something and cry because the arrangement of words provokes my tear ducts, or laugh wildly because it appeals to my sense of humour. I love when I listen to music and the lyrics haunt me a week later. I love when I read an ambiguous sentence and guess at the meaning.
I’d most like to write novels, wherein I could create a fantasy world or something that immerses my reader. Hopefully it’d be the sort of thing you could get lost in, where you sit down to read a chapter before bed and then next thing you know, you’ve flipped the last page and it’s 2am and you’re lucky it’s the weekend.