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Of course, it’s every writer’s dream to have one of their works published.

I’m sure every kid has gone through a stage of making up stories and telling those wildly imagined tales to their parents. Some kids eventually grow out of it; some don’t – they become writers. I never grew out of it – I’d like to think that my imagination’s on crack.

I’ve just got one teensy, weensy problem. I never seem to finish what I’ve started. I’ve got stories tucked away undone in secret Fanfiction.net and Fictionpress.com accounts – and hey, they had their golden years – with the few readers I have begging for more, yet I have absolutely nothing to give them.

You want to know how bad it is?

I’ve never finished a journal, and that’s me talking about my life – none of that crap made up.

I’ve taken up two creative writing classes, one in Creative Fiction writing and the other Drama. I was required to submit a 50-page manuscript of my work. I submitted 40 pages, and it wasn’t even finished. Until now, it is an untouched Word document in my hard drive. As much as I want to finish it, my fingers tense up as I rummage through my brain for a perfect way to end it. I don’t.

It’s every writer’s dream to have their work published. It’s my writer’s dream to just get it done. And it saddens me that I haven’t found it – the idea at the back of your brain that is itching for you to scratch it, a metaphor given to me by my brilliant Creative Writing professor. One of those stories is an itch that you’re dying to scratch, the itch that you’re dying to relieve.

I want it.

But will I ever find it?

I want to fulfill my dream.

But will I? Ever?