Conjuring scenes in my mind, and inventing characters with histories, quirks and mannerisms as realistic as anyone I’ve ever met, is probably my biggest passion. Writing is one of the things I’m most private about, and it might be the single most thing I’m proud of, possibly because it stems from somewhere unknown. I started writing as a child, mainly short stories, then some poetry in my adolescent years. It evolved from there.
Many years ago, a family member told me I am related to the famous poet Robert Frost, but my ancestry research has not yet confirmed it. To be honest, solving this mystery is no longer a priority. Sure, Frost wrote some nice poetry (Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and sorry I could not travel both…), but I never knew him personally, as he passed away fifteen years before I was born. He’s not my hero; I would rather write my own, and so I do, with every intriguing and believable personality I create.
When I find myself pulled back into a writing phase, it consumes my every thought. It keeps me up late at night, gets me up early in the morning, takes over my dreams, and allows little time for other activities. It’s a big part of me—one I wish I could invest regular time in—but my design career has always been of greater importance because of that whole “need to earn money” factor.
