One day, when the first zombies start to rise and everyone else is panicking and losing their minds, I will have found my true calling, but in the meantime I will be writing what I can, when I can, and it will most likely involve zombies, and maybe dragons, possibly both. I also blog a bit, sometimes about zombies (you getting the the common factor here?) and I have even been known to submit an article or two or Technorati (not about zombies though, yet).
I was born in the hilly green forests in Greytown, Kwazulu Natal. I was too young to remember much of that time, but whenever I’ve been up that way, I feel at home somehow, except for the heat. That I definitely do not like… I love the cold, but that could have something to do with my body’s internal thermostat being broken. At the slightest hint of heat, I start gushing out like Niagara Falls, so in cold weather I just feel more comfortable. Also since my thermostat is broken, I tend not to feel the cold.
Anyway, after that my dad was transferred up to some small “dorpie”, Iswepe, in what is now Mpumalanga (even dorpie is giving it too much credit, the fact that it has a name is enough). I was only there until the end of my first two years of school though, but to give credit where it’s due, some of my fondest childhood memories are from that time, but that’s not credit to the place, it just happened to occur there.
In primary school, my dad got transferred again to another random small town in the Eastern Cape, Ugie. Most people give me a blank stare when the name is mentioned, and who can blame them, it’s a beautiful yet insignificant little town on the southern tip of the Drakensberg. Either way, it was an improvement over the previous place I lived. I can’t say I planted my roots there at all because since there were no decent schools within 100km, I was shipped of to boarding school: Queens College in a smallish town 20 kilometres away, Queenstown,. It’s a very proud school, over 150 years old, steeped in tradition and all that; it kinda made me who I am today in a way, the good and the bad, but I won’t get into that. My first sparks of interest in writing began in my standard 8 (grade 10) year there, but all that writing of that time, is lost now. If someone had to miraculously find all of it, they could make a rather large book called “The Lost Works of Charles Vincent” or something, there was that much.
My dad then retired and we decided to move to Port Elizabeth, or PE as it is also known. I was given the choice to stay in Queens College, or go to a new school in PE for the last two years of high school. I was a naughty little shit while I was in boarding school and if I had stayed any longer in Queens I would have probably been expelled, so I decided on a PE school and ended up in Victoria Park High School. I never made much of impression in those last two years, but I made some of my best friends there and probably didn’t focus nearly enough on my education, even my writing stopped, until as recently as a few years back.
After high school I studied IT and after a year of struggling to find work, I did my security training to become an armed response officer for a large international security company, where my love of guns began. I did that work for close to 7 years before moving back into IT, still at the same company. During my nights as a response officer, my love of reading did flourish however.
People came into my life and people left. Life carried on, but my writing never started up again. I did however, in addition to reading a bit more, start to develop a love for all things zombie. I can’t explain it, I just developed a love for the subject. I watched all the movies I could, I read what there was and it has stuck to this day. Since joining a group of odd characters called the Tequila Thursday Writers Club a couple of years back, I had started writing a bit more, mostly blogging, but some poetry and fiction inbetween as well. Last year, someone very special came into my life to stay, I will be marrying her next year, and I’ll be honest I haven’t done much writing since, except blogging a bit, but I still do try to get some in here and there.
I might never finish writing a novel, I’ll probably never make money from my writing, but that’s not why I do it, I write for the love of the written word. There is a certain magic in putting pen to paper (or finger to keyboard to PC rather,) putting my thoughts down is a great stress relief. I lose my self in worlds of superheroes and villains, dragons and knights, love and tragedy, in places that will never exist except in my head. I love that when I read a work and someone else reads the same thing, what we have seen in our minds is not nearly the same. And that’s exactly what it is, the world and the characters are only limited by your imagination. That is the beauty of the written word, it is unique to each person. You might hate my favourite book, I might love yours. You may wonder why someone even bothered writing a book that they did, it may have been the worst book you have ever read, but to someone else it may be a world full of magic. If only one person thinks your writing was great, it’s all worth it.