They always come in a dream.
One of the first pieces of advice I received about writing was years ago, from some obscure writer whose name I’ve long forgotten, but whose words I haven’t. “Write the movie you see in your head.” The idea was that you can tap into your imagination and capture the stories already running around in there, you’ll have a practically unlimited supply to draw upon.
Or so I was told. For me, it’s worked. My imagination gave birth to a world where people could gain something akin to superpowers, but only at a great personal cost – and that simple premise has fueled two novels, a short story and the outlines for two more novels and a short story anthology.
It gave birth to a thief with a heart of gold and his ability to find things – and return them not where they belong, but where they were truly supposed to be, and to a precautionary tale where certain humans in our society are deemed as the deadliest weapons and feared as such.
And now, it’s given me Maya.
Maya is fourteen turns. She’s tiny, only about fifteen and a half hands high (that’s about 5′-2″), lithe, with short-cut red hair and glasses. Wide eyes, though – she is always looking at the world, paying attention to everything. And smart – remembers whatever she reads. She doesn’t dress fancy, mostly coveralls and work boots, which means sometimes the other girls in Secondary laugh at her or give her a hard time. So she tends to stay by herself, happier with a book. But she’s smart and polite…
…and about to have the adventure of her lifetime.
So meet Maya. And soon, say hello to Hex.