I was a voracious reader as a child. I’d lie in bed, head propped on pillows, chin resting on another, absorbing every word.
And yet this escape into fiction lasted as long as the pages of a book. Maybe there was a sequel, a prequel, or even an extended universe. In those pre-internet days, I was limited by what was in front of me and even the tattered remains of decade old Reader’s Digests could hardly quench my thirst.
Every story had an ending but some had more than one, they had a dozen.
Enter my first discovery of the Goosebumps Choose-Your-Own-Adventure series: Give Yourself Goosebumps. Each story gave me multiple endings. I had my choice of what page to flip. I could turn right on page ninety-five. I could turn left on page ninety-nine or I could stand and fight for a quick end.
The Goosebumps series was simple, easily digestible, and completely unrelatable. But that simplicity made it as easy to write as it was to read. So when the climax of my werewolf adventure did not satisfy, I chose to make one that did.
I began to create my own alternate endings, short character arcs and multiverses. In what seems so trendy now, my Goosebumps reimaginings contained chance encounters between the Abominable Snowman of Pasadena and the Thing from Beneath the Kitchen Sink.
I did the same with the characters from my favorite comic books.
I thought of a combination of Wolverine and Batman before Marvel and DC released their own Amalgamation line. I'm not saying I was a genius, but someone clearly read my mind.
I can’t be certain whether it was simply my own hormones or if the X-men franchise truly started to feel like a steamy episode of Melrose Place. Rogue was dating Gambit. Logan was in the throes of unrequited love and Psylocke wore that skimpy outfit that left little to the imagination.
As my favorite X-characters dealt in fictional drama, I played the Machiavellian behind the scenes, concocting bizarre one-shots filled with unbridled mutant sex.
And so began my journey into short fiction via internet message boards. I made Internet friends and debated the power levels of superheroes while writing sexy and non-sexy stories about them.
Even now, as I write this short post, it’s funny to think: It all started because I wanted the X-men to boink.
Last line is perfect.