When I was a kid, I was often lost in thought. I'll admit, there were more than a few times where, say, I had absolutely no idea that homework or some other special project was assigned, because I was just plain somewhere else when the teacher told everyone about it.
was on other worlds. I was holding off a horde of orcs at one end of
the bridge while my companions escaped across it. I was leaping into an
escape pod before the starship exploded. I was discovering ruins deep
in the heart of a rain forest.
This was one of those things that led teachers to shake their heads at me.
my English teachers, because I was reading plenty, and writing these
crazy things. Doing terrible sketches. Scribbling and scrawling.
are reams of notebooks and loose paper, still hidden way somewhere, of
these daydreams made tangible. Over time they coalesced into proper
descriptions of places, outlines of stories, defined characters.
Over time, I've been able to take those daydreams and get paid
to share them with you. I am literally a profession daydreamer, albeit
an organized one with charts and notes and pictures with circles and
arrows and a paragraph on the back. Still: PROFESSIONAL DAYDREAMER. How awesome is that?
awesome enough that Mr. Stokes can forgive me totally whiffing that
"Covered Bridges of the Northeast" project. Sorry, Mr. Stokes.