I've been writing for as long as I can remember. Cringe-worthy Power Rangers fanfiction on construction paper written in Crayola marker, if you truly must know. Autism makes a habit of having me fall into fandoms hard and fast. I wrote fic about every show or game I ever gained even a bit of interest in, for years beyond counting. Animorphs. Sailor Moon. Harry Potter. World of Warcraft. Once Upon a Time. The Legend of Korra...the list goes on.
Fic was a way to get words into the universe. Nothing inspired me more than discovering the lovely world of text-based roleplay. Started that back when Yahoo had chat rooms and the kiddies thought it was cool to use CheetahChat and make yourself a gradient of text that spanned every color you could possibly imagine. Some of us had color gradients to match our characters. I was RPing who knows what at the time...Probably some awful paladin-esque hybrid of something. I like paladins. If I had snippets of my fanfiction from the late 90s, I would have to never show my face on the internet again. It's bad enough I published a Carmilla fic last September. [DANNY EFFING LAWRENCE IN THAT FINALE, THOUGH] I'm still out there, writing fic. Feel free to tell me it's all terrible. I know that already.
Which leads me to World of Warcraft. Text-based RP with my wife was actually how we met. Our characters fell in love much the same as we did. Over the years, my wife has been pushing me to write a book. I put it off for the last 7 years or so. When we stopped playing WoW during the last expansion for a while, we began a text-based Harry Potter OC email exchange to tide us over until the next time she would take a trip to the US to visit--this caused my wife to demand I, 'Stop wasting my talent and write a book.'
So I did. That book is DAYBREAK RISING. The first draft of which was terrible, by the way.
I'm working on a few projects right now. A WIP called DRAGONSONG and two short anthology submissions. I hope that this is a decent year for my writing. I can't be sure. I know I've become a better writer in the last year, much of that is due to working with my amazing CPs and beta readers, learning the ins-and-outs of this craft. I'm looking forward to taking DRAGONSONG from the dream-journal snippet it was, into something amazing. Have a very, very rough draft excerpt:
Chaos erupted quicker than Zabelle H’yel would have thought possible had she not seen it herself. One minute, a Paladin stood not fifty paces from her, the next--She was staring into the green-gold eyes of a giltfire dragon. It was massive, golden scales reflecting light as though it were comprised of an oil slick. The dragon shook itself as though throwing off a fly, a strange trill echoing across the park. Turning her attention to her father, she noticed he'd shaken from his mourning to stare from his daughter to the creature in disbelief.
A group of Paladins circled it as Zabelle considered her next move, muttering mostly to themselves. No-one had seen a giltfire dragon in centuries, not since the Vanishing Wars. As they began drawing their weapons, Zabelle felt her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She flicked her wrists, feeling two small hand knives drop into her palms. Throwing them was a skill she was grateful to have honed as a Paladin swung recklessly at the dragon with a sword twice their size. She couldn't stop herself from scowling as the knife's warning clattered off of their shield ominously.
“Have I commanded you to attack this creature?!” she yelled, projecting her voice as was taught for years beyond counting. None could claim not to have heard her, even in the low din from those still assembled.
“N-No, m’lady.” the attacker was called Jesalis, a woman she recognized. A Paladin with a penchant for actions first, questions later.
“Neither I nor the King has given such a command. Desist, all of you who would wish to harm this dragonsong, or by my hand you shall be executed.” Zabelle said.
She felt a tug at her sleeve, her advisor--An elderly scholar whose posture was hunched as though she was forever leaning over a book.
“Princess, ‘tis your right to know, this dragonsong is tied to you. It knew of your birthright. They bond to power, you see. We’ll set the nuptials for the month coming, shall we?”
Kiran Oliver is a 31 year old writer and author residing in New Zealand with his wife and their cat, Ember.