I was squirted into an accidental existence sometime in February of 1982 on a leather sofa in somebody's basement. If thats way more than you needed to know, just think how I feel. My poor mother carried my developing fetus inside her womb for a little over nine months. Yep, thats right. I apparently needed to cook more so I stayed in the oven a while longer. I imagine I was rather anxious to get out, because my birth was quite painful for her, a fact which she has reminded me on a number of occasions.
Six months after my birth doctors informed my mother that my vision didnt work like normal children. This little oops was due to a condition known as optic nerve hypoplasia, in which the optic nerves did not fully develop. Because of this, while I can technically see as well as anyone else, the signals get lost somewhere along the broken bridge of nerves to my brain. Therefore, only a fragment of what I truly see is ever understood, and without a reference to draw upon, even what I do see is unknown.
After being poked, prodded, scrutinized and otherwise voyeuristically observed for a few years, the doctor responsible for all that fun came to the following brilliant scientific conclusion:
"This child is blind and will never amount to anything."
My mom wrote a very nasty letter to Dr. Dripping Pessimism in which she expressed her sincerest displeasure. Despite my years of making her life somewhat stressful for a while, she has always believed in me. I've spent a large part of my life proving that doctor wrong in one way or another.
Writing has always been my passion. On the page and in your head, words convey emotion, thought and description unrivaled by any other form of entertainment. Even the highest budgetted movies and the best acting can only convey sight and sound. But the word conveys each sense as vividly as the writer and your imagination wish.
I spent many years in university tempering my writing in the discouraging fires of rigid workshopping classes, only to realize those classes were killing my desire to write. But now the desire is resurfacing once more, along with a greater understanding of this timeless art.
I am currently working on my first series of novels and living with my spectacular wife Chelsea in the beautiful and often drippy city of Nanaimo B.C.