I wanted to be an archeologist detective mathematician ballerina warrior hero when I was young. I believed that there were other worlds where all the stories are true. A world where Sherlock Holmes and Indiana Jones are as real as you and me.
A world of magic where stories come from. You see, all writers are just borrowing from these true stories.
I was on a mission as a child to find the gateway into this place. To find the wardrobe that leads to Narnia. There were so many adventures I wanted to join! I wanted in on this land of ideas.
I used to daydream re-watching movies in my head and if I didn’t like the ending I would re-write it. Outside I would imagine the fairy kingdom that lived in the tree bark or the mysterious magical creatures that played in the beautiful alpine forest outside.
I’d often watch this campy cheesy action movie The Last Action Hero. In the movie, this boy was a huge action movie fan and would sneak into a falling apart theatre to watch his favorite series. He was given a golden ticket, not just any it was Harry Houdini’s magic ticket. It could take you places, places outside of this world!
I was so happy and excited when that magic ticket opened up the silver screen and took that boy right into his favorite film. I remember how all the fictional characters said in the real world there are no heroes. It’s all sad and real and people die. There was a happy ending but we learned that magic isn’t real.
When I was about nine or so I remember writing confidently when it comes down to it, all I ever wanted to do was save the world. Like Sherlock with my super detective brain or as Indiana Jones with my charm, wit, and courage.
I always wanted to help people and I believed I had the superpowers to do it. I guess I just lost the magic ticket that made my dreams real.
I want that magic back…
I want to open up that doorway and let all the heroes, heroines, magicians, explorers and every story ever to come out and save the world with me.
That’s why I write.