Why I Write

Curled up on the tan couch in the living room, at the foot of mom & dad's bed, or pretty much any other comfotbable corner I  could squeeze into, elementary-school-aged-Clara could be found with her nose in a book — probably Harry Potter or something to do with fairies. I found comfort in the company of familiar characters and new worlds, in the way sentences flowed together to create paragraphs. I didn’t know it yet, but I had found my passion.