Ever since I was young, I have always enjoyed writing. What began as a love for writing huge adventure stories in English class grew into a coping mechanism for the turbulence of youth. My writing was one of the only safe outlets I had, and provided a distraction and another option to the self-harm in which I so frequently indulged.
As I aged and life’s turbulence decreased, so did my writing. So too, sadly, did my reading. Then when I began my first graduate job and knew I would be spending hours a day on a bus, I decided to pick up reading once again. I enjoyed the Pratchett and Tolkien read to me by my father as bedtime stories, so opted to investigate fantasy further. So I picked up the first book in Brent Weeks’ Night Angel Trilogy from an Oxfam bookshop for the huge sum of £3, and I have never looked back.
I began to rapidly devour fantasy novels from many other authors – Michael J. Sullivan, Karen Miller, Joe Abercrombie, Robin Hobb, Mark Lawrence, Jim C. Hines, George R. R. Martin, Mazarkis Williams, Peter V. Brett, Kameron Hurley, and many more. And the more I devoured, the more I felt my imagination grow. Quickly I felt the genesis of my own story begin to bubble inside, and eventually I began the long journey required to bring it to life. Starting with this blog.