Ubiquitous Bubba

I spent my childhood in a hot, refried land known as Texas. My extended family members were storytellers in a grand Southern tradition. We spent many hours retelling and embellishing old stories which were based (sometimes loosely) on actual events. My grandmother's stories were loud, dramatic, and exciting tales that focused on the freakishly insane actions of other people. While she would frown at the suggestion that her version of events was exaggerated in any way, the truth grew stretch marks. My grandfather, on the other hand, was a different breed of storyteller. His tales would wander slowly, turning to look closer at any interesting detail on the way, disappearing down unfamiliar trails, circling in seemingly random directions, stopping to delve into the backstory of every minor character, and exploring the universe with childlike wonder.

Several other family members all had their unique styles as well. We would tell stories for hours at a time. Sometimes, a story would begin that we had heard dozens of times before, but we'd listen anyway. We knew every line, gesture, and expression, but we laughed anyway. There were times we could hardly breathe because we were laughing so hard.

I started learning to read when I was two years old. I was just bored. By first grade, I was reading fifth grade books. We would pull up to the library each week, drag in my box of books to return, and then fill it up with more. I couldn't read enough fantasy, sci-fi, or speculative fiction.

As a result, I grew to love humorous fantasy/sci-fi. When I write, I hear the voices of storytellers from my youth. I see their legacy in my writing and in my characters. I hear their laughter, exclamations, and accents in the background.

I wrote numerous short stories in my elementary school years (ages 6 - 11). To me, the written story was only part of the fun. The real fun began with reading the story aloud to an audience. I always loved to perform and that fact concealed my love of writing. Whenever anyone would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would start with playing drums, performing (literally doing anything on a stage), and then writing.

I had a history report I had to write in junior high school that I almost failed. I wrote about John Paul Jones (Revolutionary War, not Led Zeppelin) from the perspective of his ship's rat. My teacher thought I was mocking him. (I wasn't...) I wrote many other short stories in high school and college. I wrote an utterly horrific, stream of (un)consciousness story in college as a non-credit side project that was around 50 pages long. My English teacher liked it and encouraged me to continue to write. Even though it was not in my major, I took a Creative Writing course in my senior year that changed my interest in writing.

My Creative Writing teacher challenged me in a big way. I learned more in that one class about the art of writing than I thought possible. In the end, she told me that I needed to write in order to fulfil my purpose on this planet. I thought she was pushing it a bit.