For years he dreamed of being a writer. A novelist. The novelist.
It must have started when he first read Catcher in the Rye, and felt Holden come alive in him. Or maybe it was Gatsby that stirred the dream in him… Or was it Franny and Zooey?
More importantly, something in him prevented him from actually trying to be the Great American Novelist. He never failed to find an excuse: at first he needed more time to absorb great literature, or the muses just weren’t with him. In later years it was too much work (and how much there was!), or one of the kids needed to be taken to soccer practice.
He was 58 when he came across the Ficlets site. These days, he was winding down his career, burned out from years of late nights at the office, years of traveling for the job. And ficlets, so short and easy, quickly began to come from him.