For all of you who know me, thanks for following my blog and for those who don’t, welcome. Well, I’m not so good in talking about myself like this so I give you a story:
Normal stories begin on a windy night, or on a stormy day; this begins a bit different: in the restroom. ****** ******** was thinking about how much longer he had to wait before class was over. While he quite enjoyed English, he had a knack for getting off topic and that caused a few problems. He would be reading Shakespeare’s Romeo And Juliet and wonder why Romeo could get a girl to fall for him in 3 days so far that she died for him, while he was still single. It was in the light of his organized mind, or lack thereof, that he decided, “Hey! What about I start writing my own things?”. How this thought came to be is unknown and remains a mystery till this very day.
The question then was, what should he write. So he started dabbling and found out some things about himself. He hated plays: the constant stage directions made is imagination grow still; the playwright had to imagine everything for his audience leaving little to his audience’s imagination. It was then he discovered his love for poems and novel writing. Prose and poetry held him captive. He would read a poem today and tomorrow it would have a different meaning. The novel would draw him into the author’s world but with enough room for him to call it his own. So he started writing and writing and drawing and writing (Hey! Why couldn’t he draw?)
And the story was how you know, he became the most successful writer in the history of the universe, in a couple of years time.