When I was a teenager, I looked up to poets like Hemmingway, Whitman, Poe, Tennyson, and Bukowski and philosophers like Nietchze, Socrates, Marcus Aurelius, and Sarte. Inspired by these men, I began to write a great deal of poetry and a few short essays.

I've always been an introverted person and have difficulty expressing my emotions to others. Through writing, I quickly found a way that I could constructively vent these feelings. I wrote about love, infatuation, anger, sadness, random thoughts that filled my head, and occasionally happiness. As I grew older, I allowed the poetry to become looser. Rhyme and meter were thrown out for a more erratic, rambling method of composition.

About a year ago and a half ago, I tried to compile the work together into a complete and concise bound volume. Needless to say, "Don't Waste Your Money On This Book" was not a success. I just couldn't find the best way to organize it and was including far too much work. Because of this, I set out to create a slightly trimmed down version that cut out many of the rants and essays and a few of the poems that just didn't fit with the rest of the text.

This new collection needed a better name. I realized that I have a tendency to fumble for the right words to express what I'm thinking to others. So it's only fitting that "Fumbling for the Write Words" would be an appropriate title to a literary work that contains work spanning about 15 years of my life. Even now, I'm having a bit of difficulty determining the right words to describe this book.