More than any other medium, books are a gateway to the ultimate fantasy world. More than TV, movies or even music. They require the imagination to to work overtime, even with comic books there to paint a picture for you. For those of you who haven’t caught on yet, I like to entertain the idea that I’m a real writer-you know, a guy who writes (or at least wants to write) professionally… for a career… to live off of. Foolish I know, but everyone has a dream. I’ve been reading books, mainly comics and graphic novels, since I learned to read. From Calvin & Hobbes to the batman detective comics to when I first discovered the dark knight returns and Watchmen, these were the books that shaped my world. Sure I took cues from fiction books and pop culture essays, I mean they’re the reason I write the way I do, but those comics formed the prisms of my imagination.
I’m in love with creating worlds in my mind; because why not? Real life is full of shit and daydreaming and fantasizing are the only things around to keep you sane. Disappearing into books and comics, or even films, assist with the process. Years have been spent hiding in secret forts, spaces in closets or within the confines of textbooks that you’re supposed to be reading. (And oh how you dreaded being called to read a chapter in class as a result.)
All of this hullabaloo is my way of talking myself into believing I can join this industry of people I’ve admired. It’s a tough world; you’re young and still full of hope, still believing you can write for that magazine you love or making that film that you’ve wracked your brain over day in, day out or even coming up with that graphic novel you’ve been thinking about for a long time. It’s definitely a weird time, life hasn’t made you completely bitter yet. (Yet.) That’s what keeps me moving I guess; not fame, money or glory but the undying hope that I can be an industry guy. The type of writer that all my favorite writers enjoy reading stuff from, that would be better than anything.