I never meant to become a writer. I was supposed to be an accountant.
One day, I found a better life for myself. A better lie.
It’s a lie that sounds like truth.
A lie that feels like emotion, dressed well and bleeding in the right places.
“This character can find happiness.”
That sort of lie.
Beautiful. Dangerous.
Almost convincing.
Most of my stories don’t begin with an idea, not really. They begin with a mood. A feeling I can’t name. A playlist I shouldn’t admit to. A sharp sense of emotional gravity that says, “Something’s wrong here, and I need to find the story that explains why.”
From that mood, a title, the start of the shape of a character.
From that title that person-becoming, a shadow of genre.
And then it becomes a thing—half-formed, be-tentacled, inconvenient. Full of loss and softness and people who want too much of what is out of their reach.
Is it fantasy?
Is it truth?
Sometimes I wonder if there’s a difference.
I write in slow circles, usually with background music that would make a Gregorian monk question his faith and a metalhead nod solemnly in approval.
The process is haunted. Obsessive.
Occasionally glorious.
Every finished story feels like something that survived me. Despite me. To spite me.
If you read my work and it makes you feel something strange—or if you finish a piece and have to sit in the quiet for a while—good.
That’s the point.
I’m not writing answers. I’m just pulling back the curtain for a minute and letting something emotionally unsupervised slither through.
And maybe you recognize it.
Maybe it looks like something you buried.
Or forgot.
Or fear to look at too closely.
If my stories hurt a little? That’s how you know they’re working.
I’m sorry.
(I’m not. But it’s a pretty lie. Those are the best sort.)
⸻
So yes, I’m a writer. But not the tidy kind.
I write to feel like I’ve written.
To walk away emotionally wrecked and mildly smug.
To make peace with all the things I’ll never say to myself in real life.
To stare at a blank page like it owes me money and scream at it in prose until it gives something back.
That’s how I write.
That’s the mood I write in.
And maybe, just maybe, it’s the mood I am.
Maybe come catch me writing on Twitch some time? https://twitch.tv/ozzytopus