Ask me what my three favourite novels are that don’t begin with Harry. You’ll be disappointed.
At my pink, squishy core, I’m a scientist. Kids’ encyclopedias and the like abounded in my house. Remember PC Genius? Fiction really didn’t have much influence except what I read in school. Brainy bastards have no place for fantasy, don’t you know.
Well, like eschewing just about any and all sports as a kid, I wonder if I shot myself in the foot by not reading more fiction. This little blog has been a really nice outlet, and considering how easy it is to publish in the age of the Kindle, I wonder if I should have a crack at writing fiction. Problem is that no author is an island, unless they want to be shit. So if I’m ever to write fiction, I need some raw material, the synthesis of hundreds of volumes read to understand the craft before I ever try to shape it into my own style on paper or pixel. Where to start? I don’t know where I’m going, so any road will do.