What is the mental picture that you form when you think of an author? Do you see a writer in the corner of a dim smoke filled room? Is your mental picture of a person typing away at the laptop with a coffee close at hand? Or, do you see the writer out in nature, clutching pen and paper?
I am one of the few writers that is cursed with always being on the job. You'll find me working in that dim room, on that laptop, and out in nature. You'll also find me working in the grocery store, in the shower, on the street, and even in bed. I am one of the few that is incapable of setting the story aside. Whether I like it or not, Life is constantly whispering her stories into my mind. Awake or asleep, I hear of tales that must be shared with each and every one of you.
This burden has only increased with time. As a child I always told myself a story before I went to sleep. This was a practice that I had assumed would diminish as I aged. It didn't.
It was made clear to me in school that my academic predisposition was heavily geared towards science. I easily made A's in every scientifically related subject. One would think that I enjoyed these classes, but I didn't. The class that interested me the most was the one I had to struggle with just to keep making B's. English, or Literature Class, was never easy. While other classes required around fifteen minutes of attention, English demanded hours. I loved the subject, but it seemed my brain wasn't built for it.
Still, I persisted. I continued to fall asleep only after I told myself a story. With Life's whispers growing louder with age I decided to go to college and major in English. While I was born best suited for a career amongst the sciences, my heart was captivated by the literary arts. Staying up all night again and again I was determined to teach myself how to share these stories that Life was unceasingly whispering to me. After I graduated I soon realized that even after my thousands of hours of study I still lacked the skills to use words to capture that which our words weren't designed to grasp. I returned to University and obtained master's degrees in Liberal Arts, English and Creative Writing so that I could gain the ability to share with you what I must. Through the hundreds of papers I had to write to be graded I came to understand the perceived parameters of our extremely versatile language. Many thousands of hours of intense study later, with many degrees then in hand, I had to acknowledge the hard lesson that there are just some things that are beyond words. Life would continue to whisper her stories to me, and despite all my hard work I would be incapable of sharing them with you.
Well, this was my life. I had chosen the path that went against what I was clearly born to do. I should be in a lab right now. I should be dressed in a white coat. But I chose a different path. I chose English. I followed my heart and bound myself to the Story. And through all of my studies I was being taught by gifted teachers that I would be unable to say through words that which I was determined to say.
What next? Still lulling myself to sleep with a story. Still hearing Life's magnificent tales inside my head. Still desperate to share with you the stories that the Invisible yearns to be told. I couldn't give up. I couldn't abandon the dream. So I decided to try anyway.
I have created works, and will continue to create works that will push and exceed the limits of our language. I will continue to try to offer you that which is proclaimed impossible.
Read my works if you are looking for something different.
Read my works if you want to see through the eyes of an obsessed man.
Read my works if you want to experience what my lifetime of devotion has forged.
Read my works if you want to hear the stories that Life continues to whisper to me.
