From as early as I can remember I have been addicted to everything fantasy. I collected models and painted them, played Dungeons & Dragons and read countless books that had wizards, dragons and goblins within them. Even now as an adult I will wistfully spend long periods playing games within the fantasy genre and read books like those I did as a child. So why then, as an author myself, have I not chosen to follow in the footsteps of those I admire?
The answer is a simple one, Fear. A concern that I could not do justice to a genre that I have loved and continue to love with great passion. That anything I put into words will pale into insignificance when put alongside those of whom I hold in such great esteem. It is a fear that should I fail as a writer in embracing something I cherish so deeply, it may curb my enthusiasm for ever trying.
And so now I’ve dangled my toes in the pool with Carnaby Circus. A tale of Vampyre, Lycan and Fae set within a Victorian background. Not quite the full blown dive into the fantasy genre, but a timid paddle towards audience recognition. Perhaps one day I may have my name alongside Tolkien, Gygax, Weis and Hickman.