It may sound crazy, but everywhere I go, people tell me how much they like my purse. Seriously. "Oh, thanks, I made it," I answer, which tends to cause some discussion about why on earth I'm not making and selling purses instead of being a struggling writer.

I have no choice.

It could be said that my battle with writing was born in me the day my parents decided to name me Luthien Tinuviel instead of something normal, like Dorcas Elliot, which sounds like a perfectly decent name for a purse lady, if you ask me (though given everything I know about myself, poor Dorcas would likely have ended up just writing about purses, if she'd won out over the Song of Beren and Luthien). When I was growing up, I used to make up plays with my older sister for the neighborhood kids to perform. At thirteen I firmy believed I was destined to be John Lennon, not because of his music, though I do have a thing for music, but because of his words. I wanted to affect the world with words in that way, and it really offended my when my father told me no because he and my mother didn't believe in child exploitation. In high school, I remember once being assigned to write a five page story in English, due in a week, and I wrote almost twenty pages front-and-back of a story called Aleka's Attic, inspired by River Phoenix's band. I ran out of time in the end and had to turn it in unfinished, so I could move on to other things, much less exciting than creating an alternate reality within Aleka's fragile mind.

The truth is writing's in my soul. The Eleventh Age is my purpose. I couldn't stop writing if I tried.

But yeah, my purse is pretty awesome too. I also make hats, prosthetic beards for high school musicals, elaborate dragon halloween costumes--perhaps I should start taking those into shops with me and see what sort of reaction I get.