Passion is defined as a powerful emotion or intense feeling about some one or some thing . It can be positive, like joy or romantic attraction or negative, like anger or avarice. We often talk about passion as though it's a luxury, something to pursue once the practical business of living is settled. Or if someone is passionate about music or art, the environment or, yes, writing, that passion is somehow over the top or not quite proper. But passion has a way of refusing to wait politely in the corner. Plus, passionate people usually are interesting. Write passion into your stories with energy. Don't censor yourself or hold back - you're creating characters with a range of emotions, wants and needs. When you edit your work, make sure you've seasoned the story with elements of passion. That's what readers want to see on the page. Stop for a moment and think about what kind of passion would make you sit up and pay attention. It might be a hobby you set aside years ago but still think about, or a person or project you wish you had not abandoned. Who was that special person who influenced how you see the world? Books that opened your mind in ways you could not have expected? A work of art that made you stop in the middle of a museum and catch your breath? A piece of music that brought you to tears? Passion is all around us, if we simply take the time to stop and hear or see it. It doesn't have to be explosive or shocking, either. Let's be curious about the world around us. It's never too late to let passion be the plot twist in your life story, the unexpected turn that reframes everything that came before it. For me, writing fiction has been exactly that — a thread I kept returning to, no matter how many other obligations filled my days. The first story I wrote was called Whiffy the Skunk. I remember reading it to my younger brothers, and how satisfying it was for my ten year old self to hear their laughter. When they asked for more stories with bigger adventures, I knew that I'd found my calling. I was a writer. Creative possibilities don't announce themselves with fanfare. They appear quietly, as a pull toward something you can't quite stop thinking about. Pay attention to that pull. It knows where your story is going.

Every writer I know is waiting for something. The right moment. A longer stretch of time. The fully formed idea. The confidence that what they write will be good enough. Here's the truth: writing confidence doesn't arrive before you start. It builds because you started. Sure, it's daunting to be faced with a blank page in your notebook. Or to have to watch that blinking cursor on the vast expanse of unfilled space on your computer screen. The thing is, that inspiration you're holding on to won't suddenly appear. You have to sit down and do the work! You don't need to write a novel today. You need to write 300 to 500 words — a scene, a moment, a fragment of something that interests you — and call it done for now. Lower the bar until it's easy to step over. Then step over it every day. Progress beats perfection every single time. The finished page, however imperfect, is infinitely more useful than the perfect page that exists only in your head. Yes, you are a writer. You can do this, one word, one sentence, one paragraph at a time. Short stories, scenes, small fragments of writing all count. Start with confidence, because confidence is a decision, not a feeling. And don't forget to give that writing a title, and include the date when you save it, especially on your hard drive. As those pieces of work add up, you'll have a visual marker of your progress.