What made you want to become a writer?

When I was twelve, I came across a blog written by a seventeen-year-old earthquake survivor. In it, he described a dream he shared with two of his closest friends: one day, when they were old, they would build a three-story house near their high school. It would have a small café, an internet bar, and an arcade—a place filled with laughter, light, and shared memories.

One of the boys died in the earthquake. The other two survived and made a pact to carry the dream forward.

That story stayed with me. When I finished reading it, I quietly added my own name to their pact. In that moment, I found my life’s direction—to help make that dream real, in whatever way I could. It became my dream, too. That was when I understood why I needed to write.

Writing was the only tool I had. My pen—now my laptop—felt like a kind of magic brush, capable of recovering lost stories and giving them wings. Through writing, I discovered a rare sense of power and freedom: the ability to excavate lives and memories, like emotional archaeology, shaping meaning word by word.

Over time, I realized that writing was not only about preserving others—it was also about healing myself. It helped me tend to old wounds, lost friendships, unfinished conversations, and moments of regret. Writing gave me a way to revisit what was broken, repair what could still be mended, and transform trauma and loss into something meaningful, generous, and alive.

For me, writing creates a kind of utopia—one built from human struggle, resilience, and belief—set against a real world marked by injustice, erasure, and grief. I love its ability to offer refuge: a harbour where people can pause, feel seen, breathe, and gather strength. I believe words can plant seeds of hope, widen perspectives, and quietly change lives.

Writing pushes me outward—to see what I haven’t seen, to approach the unknown, to become wiser and braver than I was before. Even now, the thought that my words might help someone glimpse light in darkness still gives me goosebumps.

That’s why I write.

And that’s why, to me, being a writer feels like the most sacred and magical work in the world.