About a Boy who makes stuff up

‘Mice: What is the best early training for a writer?

‘An unhappy childhood.’ — Ernest Hemingway

The so-called “best years of my life” were bleak and awful. My alcoholic parents threatened divorce every other day and still drove, with me in the back seat. I became a nervous worrier to the point where I had semi-permanent stomach pains and there were days so dark that I didn’t want to see the light afterwards.

Then I began to write…and I fell in love with it.

The rush of writing something, polishing it, scrapping it, starting again, polishing it and reading out-loud in class. The applause and the praise, not for me, but for the work I put on paper, gave me a confidence that I never had.

Then I had the idea of writing for more than just myself. I could use my talent to help others feel less alone, I could make someone smile for a second when they’ve had a bad day, I could do more than just write. I could connect to people.

Half as long, Twice as bright is my attempt to connect to people with or without depression by sharing my journey from the person I am today, a depressed, socially awkward amateur, into the person I want to be. A candle lit at both ends.