I think I write because I tend to live inside my head, always thinking up stories about everything I see or hear around me. I also have a fondness for drawing, which, oddly enough, certainly lead me to writing: drawing is simply yet another way to write stories.

I recently used the word “emotional porn” in a blog post: I think I write for that too. The same way other sing, do photography or paint, I feel that writing is just another way to try and capture emotions, cradle them in the palm of your hand. It is, therefore, no surprise that there’s romance in my books. I wouldn’t call myself a romance writer per se–since I tend to borrow from various genres without any regards to how the hell my publisher is going to market the books—but I love trying to describing the process of falling in love. It’s so difficult to find the right words to build chemistry, get into a character’s head and express that mix of self-doubt and elation.

Another major factor is the sheer love of words: their sonorities, the way some words will give you shivers. This is something I can’t get enough, be it in French, in English, in Japanese … There are so many lovely, powerful words to be written!

That being said, I’m probably misleading people into thinking I’m some kind of serious, and moderately competent writer, here. Sorry about that. The other reason why I write is that I constantly get weird ideas and find it very difficult to take anything seriously. I therefore diligently pour everything that goes through my mind onto the paper (or into text files, really), because I can, and it would appear neither my agent nor my editor can stop me.

Long story short, I got Montlake Romance to publish a book about true love and killer platypuses. That’s why I write. For that kind of sick thrill.