I suppose that my story might be of interest. It began on a stormy night in March, year of 1994. Tornadoes whirled through the city of Birmingham, Alabama, and in the middle of that destruction, I entered the world.
I was born to a Christian family, under normal circumstances. As I grew older, an older sibling of mine began to learn English, and I listened in on the lessons and began to correct her spelling. This led to me being homeschooled, starting at the age of three. I was reading full books by four, and over the coming years I exhausted every novel or encyclopedia that I could get my hands on. The magnificent stories and situations gave me a creative drive, one that I cannot help but follow. I became a Christian at eleven, having read and appreciated the grand story of love that we are all a part of.
I began to create at eleven, when I picked up programming and started making video games for fun. By the time I graduated, at fifteen, I had taken up drumming and joined a band. We played live shows for about two years, and then I went to college for engineering and continued making games, completing my first full-length game narrative. It wasn’t enough.
I wanted to tell stories, and I just wasn’t a good enough artist to realize every aspect of them in games. I began providing my voice as a part of some projects my friends were doing, but I longed for more. I wanted to build complete stories that gripped the imagination and answered the endless ‘what if’ questions I had. One night, this changed.
I had a dream. It was a horrifying and amazing dream, full of monsters, death, gods, and superhuman abilities. That dream stuck with me for two years, and I never forgot a single detail. Then, one fateful night, when the creative drive that I had wrestled with for years wouldn’t let me sleep, I began to write.
I started at midnight, and finished at one. It was a crude rendition of the first bit of my dream, written with the dread that I felt as I encountered my own death. I thought it to be an interesting read, but then left it alone. Months later, I came back and added another chapter. Then a few weeks later, another. And another. I dated the love of my life and got married, but still didn’t let the book go.
I finished that book the month I graduated with my bachelor’s degree. As I moved into my job, I found I couldn’t stop. More stories poured forth through this rediscovered medium. The stories that I write, that you can take from me and read, are the product of a creative drive that will hold me captive till I die.
So, y’know, have fun with that.