Other wolves may write, but I’m the Writingwolf. Wolf for short. Or Darren. Both work, and they’re only a small number of the names of I go by: Micrody, Dexter, Dextron, D-rab, and among my favorites, gay Jew dude. They’re all me, or at least parts of me, facets of what I show the world at any given moment in time and/or space. Both work.
I’m a writer. I’ve been a writer a long time, and a storyteller my entire life. These are just generalizations, though, things that could apply to a multitude of people, past and present, future and so forth. So what’s so special about me? To get that, you’d have to look at the past.
Ten years, to be precise.
(You could go back twenty and some months, but as it’s the start of the new decade and all, I figured the past ten are a good enough place to start. In all honesty, to get a good picture of me, they’re all you really need to look at.)
Over the next few days, I’ll be posting about the ten years from 2000 through 2009 and talking about some of the most notable moments that have shaped me since then. I’m a storyteller, so there’s always more to say, but here’s a nice place to start.
So with no further ado, with introductions done and did, let’s take a time warp, do a jig, and land back in the big two-triple-oh.
2000: The closest thing to binary since the year 1000
The new millennium began with a lot of hype. Computers were still new in my life, I was only ten, and the whole Y2K thing sounded more like jewelry than doomsday to me. I didn’t keep many notes back then, still before I seriously began writing (although the cogs of my greatest stories were already in motion, fueled by fantasies of childhood TV shows and Harry Potter). I hadn’t read much before the turn of the century, but thanks to a well known author with initials J, K, and R, I’d gotten into reading big time, drawn from mysteries like the Hardy Boys and Encyclopedia Brown to the world of fantasy and mythology. That was the budding blossom of my love of writing: with a new love of books, when I knew I had to tell the stories rampaging through my mind, I knew writing was the way to do it.
Of course, I didn’t love writing right away. In fact, it wouldn’t be for another two years that I’d truly catch onto it. But for now, my mind was tumbling and twirling through worlds a plenty, fueled by a myriad of inspiration and a newfound love of astrology, and that would become the basis of my life to come. Although I attempted to write multiple times and never kept at it for more than a day at a time, that persistence would stay with me long after my failed attempts had.
2001: The year that changed everything (for the first time)
My sister started college, and the college fad at the time was Neopets. (Fact: It was started by college kids for college kids. That it’s been portrayed as a children’s game to the world at large is a crying shame. But I digress. We’ve still got nine and a half years to go.) So she invited me and although I joined, I was on and off it for quite a while. Like with many things in my childhood, I didn’t see my full love of it at first, but it, too, would become a critical part of my development, in only five year’s time, so keep that bit in mind.
I also began studying for my Bar Mitzvah, a coming-of-age ceremony for Jewish boys at thirteen, when they’re called to the Torah for the first time. I read from the Torah for the first time that year, but it wouldn’t be for one more that I’d have my aliyah and become a Bar Mitzvah. But for the time-being, I met weekly with a Hebrew tutor to learn to lead services.
Then 9/11 happened. It was a Tuesday. Hebrew school was cancelled, but my Hebrew lesson was not. My sister was stranded at school with no way to get in touch with us. I didn’t understand what was happening, but I knew that whatever it was, it’d interrupted MacGyver. We watched it every morning, but not today. Instead we watched the towers fall and then piled in the car.
In the car, all I could think of was “Hands” by Jewel, “If I could tell the world just one thing / It would be that we’re all OK / And not to worry ’cause worry is wasteful / And useless in times like these….”