Michael Nicorata

Around twelve years ago I began to tackle writing as a whole.  At first I started off with simple poetry to get me through the hard times with my life.  My first attempts were mostly spiritual in dialogue, then over the years my poetry and short stories I was writing in my spare time became more realistic in nature, at times darker in tone.  This was mostly due to battling with depression and anxiety, and to jot down words on a piece of paper or screen alleviated some of those demons.  Over the years I extended my writing from poetry to prose to essays and short stories.  Ever since I was a little kid I always hand a penchant for writing.  Reading early Goosebump and Issac Asimov, I loved how these authors spoke through their stories.  Even that day when your teacher asked all of us when we younger, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" my response was always, "Writer."  Of course life is one gigantic ride, just when you think your riding the wave, your coasting at the bottom.  And it does not always hand you the icing on the cake.  Life has a way of slapping you in the face and waking you up in the process.  I never ran with that dream when I was younger so I grew up naturally with the world, had my slew of jobs, went to college, graduated with a mediocre degree I never used, and hear I am.  Up until only seven years ago did I realize that writing had always been that hidden reservoir that I always excelled in, and I milked (and still am milking it) it for all it was worth.  So I got out my pen and paper (in this day and age opening up Word) and I started from scratch, and every single time I  get an itching I just have to jot something down, whether be a poem, a blurb, a montage, song lyrics, political ranting, a story in mind, or an essay with any undertone that comes to mind.  And that is pretty much me, take it for what it is, and enjoy my writing...I hope.