My spark for writing was kindled within a cluttered play tent in a two-bedroom apartment. I had this little notebook covered in stickers I didn’t like, mostly due to the fact that I wanted to save the good ones for a more valuable item. In this notebook were scribbled storylines, synonyms for “said,” and character arcs that I would tweak every time I read them over. Although the contents of this notebook were not much to the average person, they meant the world to me. I am ashamed to say that this book is now lost somewhere in the depths of my room, but its spirit lives on in my soul. As a co-editor in chief for the DHS Newspaper, I hope to reignite the passion of other high schoolers who may have lost their notebooks.