I love stories. I always have.
There is something about a grand journey, an epic struggle, or a wild adventure that just enthralls me. I love the intricate worlds that words can build, and I love the intrigue and excitement of a well constructed plot.
But there is one thing that has always made me absolutely crazy about stories:
As a kid, I imagined myself into a thousand different worlds. The books I read, the movies I watched, the games I played, all of these were ways to shrug off my mundane existence as a relatively mediocre student, sub-par athlete, and member of an unhappy family. I immersed myself in the lives of epic heroes and brave heroines because frankly, my life didn’t seem like a very good story at all.
I think the idea of The Hero was so enticing to me because there is something inside each of us that aches for purpose. We all want to be an agent of influence in some grand plot. We want to be an important part of something spectacular.
So why doesn’t my life look like any of the stories I love?