As long as I can remember, I’ve been utterly fascinated with the paradoxically absurd. I wouldn’t say I’m a Sci-Fi junkie. I’ve never been to Com-i-Con. I don’t have a Star Wars flight suit in my closet (not that there’s anything wrong with that). But I do have, what some might consider, an unhealthy dose of the macabre.

It’s what drove me to writing in the first place. Even as a very young child, I remember writing and illustrating my own stories – about putrid things, serial killers, horrific murders. Who was I to say it was wrong. Hey, it wasn’t like I was going out and actually killing people.

But, I was certainly obsessively addicted. Much of my childhood was lived in make-believe, whether it was in a book, on tv, or even in my own head. It was just so easy to get lost and elated in worlds that simply didn’t make sense.

So, the question begs: am I any good as a writer?

Answer: how the hell should I know?

I know I’ve quit a hundred times – probably thousands – because I don’t think I’m good enough. Yet, whenever I read a really bad novel – you know, one of those really bad ones people can’t seem to stop raving about – I tell myself, “Christ! I can do better than this blindfolded!”

And, so I again end up back in my tiny closet of a writing room, shades drawn, a laptop laying on my chest. And the words just pour out of me. All those voices that fill my head while I’m at my day job, they come rushing back.

Sometimes this whole ordeal makes me want to leap from a high-rise. Sometimes I think those voices in my head might just reach out and give me a little push, right over the edge. One way or another, though, I always end up back in that little, pitch black room.

I suppose it’s catharsis.

That’s how it always is for me – a bittersweet surrender. That’s how it was when I came to the end of editing my very first finished work. I could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, I could finally see a way out of that God forsaken room. And I drudged through another 48 hours of editing so I could just finish and be free of them and they of me.

And now you, too, can experience – if only a glimpse – of what life is like in the absurd. As for me, it’s done and over with. The voices are quiet and I can finally relax.

Well, until the sequel.

Get Seeking Light Aurora, the first installment in the Aurora Trilogy,
at Amazon Kindle. You’ll love it!