Why is this so difficult?
You see, I have a fairly overactive imagination. Every time I sit down to write something (anything besides boring work e-mails), my mind races with all of these crazy, (and rather self-conscious) images and thoughts. I imagine this rediculously high standard for myself, where anything I write that has even the slightest chance of being read by anyone has to be a rediculously intelligent, unbearably witty composition (which, to this day, nothing I've written has been either of the two ).
What if I someday realize my pipe dream of writing a novel? What if I then go on to write hundreds of novels and become a famous writer? What if, after I die, someone decides to write a biography of my amazingly awesome life and my library of masterpieces. Oh, and how it came to be that I saved the world and brought joy and peace to all nations. What if they start to compile everything I've written, and they come across this silly forum post? What if they put it in their biography and...and...everyone laughs at me? Just breathe Ryan, breathe. Ok, here we go:
Hi, my name is Ryan. I currently live in Tennessee and I thoroughly enjoyed reading the wool series. Thank you for your time.
LOL! I think you'll like it here!
Welcome, Ryan. I agree with Deb--I think you'll like it here.