I used to be a prolific professional writer.
I cranked pulp fiction out at an astonishing rate, getting the books published and moving on. Originally, I had two literary agents but I fired both of them. They were part of a control system, and a fake front in publishing, that is responsible for the pablum that clogs bookshops to this day.
I went out on my own, started a nonfiction work- a criminology textbook- that I am still yet to finish. I wrote a history of Ancient Rome, got it into some schools, wrote some wargames based on it…
…Then the fire left me and I stopped writing.
Since I had written professionally from the age of seventeen it didn’t stress me out too much, and as time passed I just quietly abandoned the writing game.
Then I realised how illiterate most people are, even those who would think of themselves as educated. I realised that, in the reference frame of my lifetime, there was no reversing this barbaric trend.
And so I returned to writing, in the form of comicbook scripting and writing. In an age of illiteracy a partly visual medium seemed the logical form in which to communicate.
And here we are.