The canvas of my literary soul is blank before the world, I use the imagination of my mind to paint the words upon my canvas. On my canvas anything is possible; each stroke of my brush is creativity from my soul. My literary soul writes a world all of its own using the universe to create a scene that’s real on the canvas of my soul.

My literary soul is real to me I use it to muse my writings from my mind. The characters I create are in the seams of my soul, I use them at will as I see necessary in each story line I choose to create. I pull them out and make them dance upon my canvas to perform for me. I teach them to tell me their personalities for the backstory of their lives.

The creations are endless and forever ongoing in my literary soul. I can pull their string and they talk to me as my quill rolls upon my notepad and create an endless stream of possibilities. The genres that they chose are all up to me because within my literary soul all genres exist at the command of my call.