Adrian first dreamed of becoming a writer at the age of twelve when he hand-wrote a forty-three-page story about a jet pilot who broke all the rules. He illustrated the pages himself and bound them together to produce his first ‘book.’
The flame simmered for two decades until Adrian married and had children. He completed a diploma course at the Institute of Children’s Literature in Connecticut and began writing short stories, which he forced his children to listen to as he read to them. But his real passion was to write adult fiction.
Although this had been his burning desire since binding those forty-three pages together, it remained a dream. The fear of beginning a novel and not having the ‘stamina’ to stay the course, was stronger than the desire to become a writer. Better to die wondering than to know it was not to be. But the fire still burned.
Then, one day ten years ago, while holidaying at the family trailer in Birch Bay, Washington State, he decided it was time to face his demons. With no plot and no characters in mind, only the opening sentence, “Given the choice of being born smart or being born lucky, he always maintained he would never be dumb enough to pick being smart,” he began typing. By the end of the day, he had written six thousand words. Adrian was off and running in pursuit of his lifelong dream.
He has followed the same pattern of developing all his stories from no more than an opening sentence and allowing the characters to introduce themselves and drive the plot. He sees himself only as the scribe who writes what the characters tell him.
When he is not writing, Adrian keeps out of mischief umpiring Minor League Baseball, sketching in pencils and chalk, working out in his home gym, doing all the cooking at home and keeping up the outside of the house. He lives in Maple Ridge, British Columbia, with his wife, Sandy, their daughter, Samantha, and her four boys. It’s quite enough.
