So, I call myself an author. I sort of have to, since that is what I do, yet I have not really published anything. I have not put much out to be considered for publication. I suppose this is because I have yet to deem my work ready for prime time.

What makes someone an author? Publication? I don’t know. I suppose, in the strict sense, to be the author of something means to be the creator of something. I get this from the Biblical notion of creator God as “author.”

I have gone through a number of phases in my writing career. When I started to write, I was in late high school and in love with the work of Orwell. I wrote dystopian stories. Those of you familiar with my work remember stories like “The Phyloukre Company,” or “The Terminal Clinic.”

Since, I like to think I’ve begun to develop my own way. Right now, I am working on a book of short stories that take place in New Hampshire (the state I was born and raised), and the stories deal with the idea of generational gap, or the idea that one generation cannot know the next. I have been featuring a lot of Magical Realism, being inspired a lot by Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

I’m hoping to get into an MFA program this next year so I can sharpen my craft and my voice. I need to begin to send out for publication, but in a way, getting writing samples ready for grad school seems like good practice.

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