First off, I write.
That’s the easy version; the one that I’m truly sure of.
Second, I’ve written since the age of thirteen.
In English, that is. Before that, I wrote in Danish, my native tongue, and I think I left my mother’s squelchy womb with a pencil already in hand, set and ready to go. Actually, it might be time to take a peek at those baby photos in the drawer…
Third, I write in the genres of romance, sci-fi, fantasy, magical realism and god-knows-what.
This is where things start to get murky. I suppose I ought to have a preference, a genre that I’m best at, but mostly I’m good at action/adventure in a fantasy/sci-fi setting with a romantic undertone held alive by a heroine and hero that knows what they want, both individually and together. I’m a realistic writer (sometimes that makes me an angsty writer) and my romance is always, without fail, slow-paced.
Fourth, I write from my gut (read: I dunno what happens before it happens)
I write fast-paced plots, and I do it in a minimalist style. In doing so, it seems that while I do indeed create worlds and universes, I tend to create these while I am writing the book rather than plan them out beforehand. It’s… well, it’s a creation from the gut, if you will. There’s no danger in it. Nothing gets lost or forgotten. It’s how my creative process works. Some might say it’s a roundabout way, but it’s the way that does it for me.
Lastly, I write from within my apartment in Denmark with my two dear roommates…
…and I do so in the dear company of my pet bamboo of ten years, Jean-Claude, and my stuffed toy of fifteen years, Lambi.
Hm, no, I think that about covers it, doesn’t it?
Time to go locate those baby pictures; maybe I jabbed my way to precious life with that aforementioned pencil?