Lawrence N. Oliver
Lawrence N. Oliver struggled in school. He has dyslexia and he hated reading, especially aloud. So, his father bought him a copy of The Foundation and The Hobbit. He can’t remember which was first but he fell in love with the genres. He'd always had a vivid imagination and a daydreamer’s attention span, they'd have called it ADD were he in school today. Even now he catches himself staring out of the window thinking about his characters, their misadventures and the other worlds they inhabit.
As he grew up it was life, responsibilities and procrastination that had kept him from ever putting any of his daydreams down on paper.
One day he found himself home alone with a few days off work. He was reading a book, sitting by the window in his overstuffed cliché suburban recliner. It was just good ole' space opera, high adventure, the good guy is always good and always right in the end kind of stuff. Nothing wrong with that but he kept finding himself drifting from the book, looking out the window thinking of a different story. One that was a little more in keeping with the accounts of conflict he’d grown up listening to. What he knew and had read about points of view and good people making bad decisions in impossible situations where no matter what you did it could end up wrong and people could die. But if you didn't do something you and your fellow soldiers would be the casualties. Things aren't black and white, even the good guys screw shit up and sometimes the good guys aren't really the good guys at all, again depending on your point of view.
So he put down the book he was reading and he started writing.