"Kiss me, and you'll see how important I am." - Sylvia Plath When I was young, things were a little different for me. Every two to three years, it was moving time. I never spent longer than three years anywhere, or even in the same country. I was constantly packing and unpacking and then packing again. But don’t get me wrong, I loved it. Whenever I spent too long in a place, I would get bored, wishing for the day to come where a new adventure would take place. I almost craved it. I’ve lived in Boston, Reading, Bolton, Clitheroe, Groeningen, Amsterdam, Bury St. Edmunds… The list is almost endless. I have never had a problem with it, making friends has always been easy for me so leaving friends was never really a problem. That’s what happens when you move from place to place at such a young age. Some people say that’s a little cold, but blah! Life is meant to be filled with adventures and a whole lot of people. What’s the point of living in the same house, going to the same school, seeing all the same people and looking at all the same scenery? Nothing. There is no point. Life is about doing everything you can in such a small space of time. I wasn’t always into reading. I was about ten when my mother introduced to Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. It was that moment when I dumped my dolls and decided to read. Read, read, read and read again. I began to completely live and breathe Harry Potter. My eleventh birthday was a big disappointment for me. No flying Owls on a mission to take me to the greatest boarding school in the history of the world for me to learn magic and fight a bloody battle with evil. So I read, and then I wrote. So here I am.