Each and every one of us had a moment in our lives where our beginning as an individual began; a moment where we came to identify the kind of person we were. A moment that was so profound it shaped who we would turn out to be for the rest of our lives. And contrary to what people say, I would argue that that moment is always within the first six years of our lives.
As children, we’re exposed to more variety than as adults. Everything is new, and cartoons like the Magic School Bus do their best to show us everything we could dream of seeing. In the same cartoon, Ms. Frizzle did everything from taking her class to the bottom of the ocean, to the furthest reaches of our solar system, and even back in time to walk with the dinosaurs. That show covered anything a child could grow up to be interested in, and as kids we didn’t even know it.
For myself however, my discovery didn’t come from The Magic School bus. Instead it came at barely four years old, on the morning of April 2nd 1991. It was my elder brothers birthday, and one of the two (because they were twins, which let me tell you is twice the misery growing up with) was gifted the Nintendo GameBoy game The Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening.
I couldn’t have known it at the time, but that game forever changed my life.
To this day I can’t be sure if I learned to read through that game, or so that I could get through it, but one thing was certain, I was getting through it.
Prior to that day, my life had never been exposed to “adventure” before. I watched incredible acts of heroism in the cartoons and movies my parents exposed me to, and I was constantly exposed to many interesting things, but actually experiencing an adventure was something I hadn’t known, nor even knew was a thing yet. And when it finally happened, it resonated with me; something inside me was awoken and the gears of my imagination were truly born.
From that day forward my whole life became about adventure. Not the kind of adventure that takes on traveling, nor the kind that inspires children to play pretend. No, the adventures I sought were all in my imagination, filled with magic and mysticism. Dragons and goblins. Heroes and kingdoms. I became a dreamer of the epic, and a storyteller in my mind without even seeing it for what it was.
It was this path that drove me to drawing throughout my childhood. While other children were paying attention in class, I (somewhat regrettably) was instead drawing in the pages of my notes. I drew heroes and monsters, landscapes and castles. I would imagine adventures for everyone I drew, entirely convinced that mine was the most epic tale never told. It’s no surprise that in my post-secondary education I pursued the path of animation, and eventually concept art. What was however a surprise was discovering that passion was never in drawing itself. In hindsight, I realize I only spent all those hours drawing growing up to escape the classroom that was my birdcage. I, in fact, never had a passion for drawing and haven’t picked up a pencil in years. I did, however, still love storytelling. Even at 30 years old my mind never stop manufacturing ideas, concepts and stories. But how could I make a living from this?
Growing up, without realizing it, my entire life was about reading. Where my friends played fighting games, and shooting games, I played adventure games. And as a product of the times, these games were largely text based. I was reading novels, and comics, and manga, but most of my reading was the hundreds of hours spent sitting in front of my television playing through long-storied games. The Legend of Zelda, Final Fantasy, even the relaxing farm adventure Harvest Moon. These games requires the player to read endless scripts of dialogue, and I loved every minute of it. Imagine my surprise when I finally put two-and-two together that writing was the perfect avenue for my creativity.
Now, I didn’t take to writing immediately. In all honesty, there was something about trying to start a novel that was terrifying. I was filled with self-doubt, creating imaginary walls that now, in hindsight, seem the silliest of hurdles.
It was finally, while working a job for a terrible employer, that my wife gave me the push I needed. She told me that I should just write, and one day I wouldn’t have to deal with such people anymore. So in part fueled by her words, and in part fueled by anger, I opened my computer and I just started writing. The words made no coherent sense at first, but before I knew it a story was given shape. It was easier than breathing.
Putting that trial aside, I finally buckled down and started to write the novel I’m currently working on. A story I’d conceived a decade earlier from the days I dreamed of being an independent comic book writer.
If you were to ask me then if I ever foresaw myself where I am today I’d have told you you were crazy, but looking back to where it all started I wonder now if there was ever any doubt I would have wound up here.
I wonder how many artists out there had similar experiences. What trigger started them towards the people they are today. Whatever the case, the world is certainly more beautiful and incredible for them.
Dream – Imagine – Create
A.
A Life Imagined 