Here are the beginnings of some of the most important books to me:


“Nothing ever begins.
There is no first moment; no single word or place from which this or any other story springs.
The threads can always be traced back to some earlier tale, and to the tales that preceded that; though as the narrator's voice recedes the connections will seem to grow more tenuous, for each age will want the tale told as if it were of its own making.
Thus the pagan will be sanctified, the tragic become laughable; great loves will stoop to sentiment, and demons dwindle to clockwork toys.
Nothing is fixed. In and out the shuttle goes, fact and fiction, mind and matter woven into patterns that may have only this in common: that hidden among them is a filigree that will with time become a world.
It must be arbitrary, then, the place at which we choose to embark.
Somewhere between a past half forgotten and a future as yet only glimpsed.
This place, for instance.”
Clive Barker; Weaveworld

“The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose.... The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of time.
But it was a beginning.”
Robert Jordan; The Wheel of Time

Okay, this isn’t the “beginning,” but bear with me.

John 1:

“1: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2: He was with God in the beginning.

3: Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. 4: In him was life, and that life was the light of men. 5: The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.”


These are passages that mean much to me. But where do I begin? Do I begin my story here, now? In an empty room? All I have here is myself, and several boxes which collectively represent the sum total of my earthly possessions.

How about four years ago, when I was leaving high school for college? How about four years before, when I was starting high school? Or even the beginning of my school years? Maybe I could start with my birth, if I remembered it? No. What would I have to tell you about those years? Nothing pleasant until we moved but a nice house, and then I lost that in the move. Then a girl that I loved completely in a relationship that fell apart for no reason I can understand now. Two best friends who have become strangers to me seem to fall next on the list. How about the countless other friends who are barely even footnotes in my memory, the people whose names I can’t even remember all the time? No those years are done, or at least only worth a flashback at some point.

I begin here, in this empty room; I begin here not because it is better than any other place, but rather because it is, in fact, where I am at the present moment. I have to be in the moment in order to function. At least right now. No, that wasn’t a joke.

I begin here because I can think of no other more appropriate opening to begin a story.

I’m graduating college. I have been going to Roanoke College, and today I got my Bachelor of Arts in English.

Actually…I’m stuck now for things to say. I could say a thousand things about my experiences here, but I just said I was beginning now. So I guess the only thing I can do is go live life.


Now, if only I was sure what I wanted to do with my life.