When I was a child everything seemed magical.  Comics were my escape.  As was TV.  It was a rare Saturday afternoon that you wouldn’t find me parked on the couch for Creature Double Feature.  Sunday nights were reserved for The Wonderful World of Disney. In a sense I have always tried to go back.  To somehow recapture that feeling.  To be once again surrounded by things that were unexplained.  Perhaps a little out of this world. I found the same thing in radio drama.  Which leads me to why I write today.

As we get older the world becomes a little scarier, less predictable, and harsh.  If nothing else, the stories I write, and the characters who dwell in the worlds I attempt to create, are little clones of the child I once was.  A child somewhat lost in a world not of their making. Madyson (The Behemoth) is me.  Milly (Bryar Lane) is me.  Pixie (Pixie-The Devil’s Daughter) is most definitely me in so many ways I haven’t even figured it out yet.  Even Max (of The Behemoth).  We, you and I, are kaleidoscopes.  Each pane is one of my characters.  If Disney is an alternate universe, they would be its citizens.

If a writer tells you that there is absolutely no piece of themselves in one of their characters they are either – 1. not aware of it, or 2. have written a stale and wooden character.  I will give you the perfect example of someone whose art is made more powerful by this realization.  James Oliva (What’s The Frequency?) in a recent interview by Wil Williams personifies this.  James wears characters and voices like a costume.  The secret is that James is the costume.  Every voice he tries on, every persona he drapes himself in, is an aspect of the person he is.  James creates, with his voice, pieces of himself.  He and Wil (the interviewer) even muse about an future/potential audio drama where the listener has no idea that the characters are all parts of a disjointed personality.

Once again – magic.

This is why I write.

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