This is something I’ve thought about for a while. I’ve been writing fiction for the better part of thirteen years. I can recall the first few books I wrote (or attempted writing). It was a series called Fenix Griffon (teenage Luke was terrible with names). Its first iteration was a horrendous portal fantasy that ripped off Harry Potter far more times than it distinguished itself from the latter. The second attempt, though? Not so bad. Still very amateurish writing, but then again, that’s how all writers start out: as amateurs. Continue reading “A Reflection: #AmReading & #AmWriting Epic Fantasy”
I’m a writer. And as a writer, I write whatever the hell pops into my head. Just the other day, I wrote a flash piece about a necromancer who raises corpses by sneezing. I write whatever the hell I want. I’m also an avid reader and enjoy sharing my enthusiasm with fellow readers, regardless of age. It’s a great escape, it’s a great pastime, and it helps a child’s mind grow.