I have an undying love for the art of writing down all emotions, events and thoughts in a jumbled pile of nonsense and then carefully and so methodically picking out the individual fragments of ones thought process and creating a piece of art that others can enjoy.  As much as I love writing, I love reading pieces that others have written with the same amount of flamboyant catastrophe as myself. 

Besides writing and reading, I'm a habit sketch artist.  When I see something that I admire or run in to whatever it may be that inspires me I need to sketch it out that very instant.  At one point in my life I had an entire box of napkins from restaurants with sketches all over them because of random incidents.  Since then I've managed to keep my scribbling to notebooks and mastering the tedious craft of handling the urge to doodle. 

I'm Megan, most of my friends and acquaintances call me Megs.  I am a young adult from a not so small town in a south west community in Mantioba.  I grew up simple minded and just enjoying the freedom of the world.  However, as I got older things changed dramatically in my life and I began to see so many variations and colors of the world that I can now clearly define how I feel and write through it.  I'm young, yes, but I know more about heart ache and despair and love and true happiness than most young adults my age.  Life is just what happens.

I am a person whose mind is overflowing, and always on the run.  Even at night when I am supposed to be curled up in my bed I find myself thinking of the fictional characters I've made out as my friends.  I give them so much detail in my mind, it is as if they are tangible and people I see every day.  However, that may be because a few of the fictional character I lay out on paper resemble some of the people in my life that I care most about.  With their outrageous personalities, lengthy and chaotic back stories and not to mention their attitudes and the fact that they spend time with a nut like me, only pushes me further to immortalize them on paper.  

Unlike some people however, I find myself on every occasion talking to myself about even the smallest things.  Should I wear the green necklace today, or the black one?  Where's my mascara?  How come I cannot find my keys, again?  Oh that's another thing, on a daily basis I tend to misplace things which leads me to believe that I have either borrowers or house elves living in my house.  They are sneaky devils, always stealing my keys and shirts, however they leave my socks and pants alone.  Must be afraid of my lower half... and my smelly feet :P  And everything in my life leads to the abyss of written pieces I have formulated.  I have about four other written works going at the moment, one including the Gods, another about Kitsunes, and two just about growing up in small, dismal towns.  

If you're reading this, HI!  And thank you for reading this far.  Below are updates on story threads, hopefully I will get a second story up here by the beginning of summer.  I just have to work out the plot details in the first chapter and then it'll be up.  It has a fantastically twisted plot line, that will most likely (hopefully) leave you craving the next chapter.  I mean, I'm writing it and I can't wait to see what I come up with next.  Does that make me conceited?  

Thank you to all my readers.  Your input and praise has really helped me continue on writing :)